


Adventure Starts and Ends in the Same Spot: Home.

by KataraTakaran



Category: The Inheritance Cycle - Christopher Paolini, Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe, Crossover, F/F, F/M, Genderfluid Pidge | Katie Holt, I can raise the rating, I switch between the two names at random sorry, M/M, Minor Character Death, Multi, NaNoWriMo, Other, Temporary Character Death, i researched things like butchery and tanning so sorry if details, largely unedited, no eragon knowhow really required, or - Freeform, wait do i tage this as
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-02
Updated: 2017-02-22
Packaged: 2018-08-28 15:05:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 30
Words: 55,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8451097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KataraTakaran/pseuds/KataraTakaran
Summary: Lance had lived his whole life on the family farm. One day, while hunting, Keith finds a mysterious rock in the Spine, and brings it back into Carvahall. What's inside the rock? Well, here be dragons. **------------------**In which I take the Inheritance characters, and shove them out of the way so that I can shove the Voltron characters into their places.





	1. Raging Assholes

Lance crouched behind a tree, eyes closed and ears open. He could almost hear the deer breathe, that was how close it was. It seemed nervous, pausing every step into the clearing. He drew his bow silently, slowly, waiting, listening. One more step, and he pounced, a battle-cry on his lips.

The deer, a buck, stared him down, too startled to move for a second, as an arrow whizzed into the space between its eyes. It would have hit dead on, killing before either could register the fact, if a sword had not descended, taking the head of the beast with one swift stroke.

So instead, Lance was hit with a dead, headless spooking deer, as his arrow lodged into the tree on the far end of the clearing. He was drenched, as the animal collapsed atop him still kicking and bleeding out. He gagged as the throes finally stopped, and he was able to wiggle out from under the beast.

“Keith you fucking mullet, that one was mine!” Lance snapped as he failed at wiping himself clean of blood using his bare hands. His black-haired rival just snorted.

“Fine, if you want to carry the damn thing down yourself, be my guest.” He plonked down on a nearby rock, and set into cleaning his sword. Lance puffed up, full of bottled anger primed to explode. Further into the clearing, two more deer had been felled as well. Does. Both without heads.

“You god-damn- you fucking show off-!” Lance successfully scared off any remaining game for over a mile.

“Shut up and get cleaning. Your ma wants sausage casing.” Keith deemed his sword clean enough, and sheathed it. He traded in a dagger, which was put to use skinning the nearest animal.

“Stupid, fucking asshole,” Lance spat, but drew his own butchering knife. He stalked over to one of the does. “Should’ve shot you, you’ve got enough asshole to make miles of sausage!”

“Whoa, mind your step, Katie, Lance is brewing up a storm. Keith won again.” Hunk called behind him, as he entered the clearing. He unhelpfully dropped several braces of rabbit in a clear area.

“Yeah. I would’ve heard just as clearly if I was still back in town.” Katie added 6 waterfowl to Hunk’s pile. “You owe me a goose Lance, thanks.”

Keith just rolled his eyes. He helped start a fire in the centre of the clearing while Lance bemoaned his lack of support.

The clearing was soon filled with gore as much as with noise. Lance was quick to commandeer the intestines and other useful organs. He spent most of the time in the stream, trying to clean himself off as much as his collection. Between Katie and Hunk, most of the meat was broken down into moveable chunks, and all the useable bones were set aside. Keith was quick and efficient as he skinned each animal flawlessly. Lance eventually rose from the river, soaking wet despite the all to near sunset.

The other three sniggered at his sodden, stained appearance.

“Mama just made this jacket, Keith. You’re going to be in so much fucking trouble.” Lance glared.

“Your fault for wearing new stuff on the hunt, idiot.” Keith dead panned.

“Well _someone_ is wearing my hunting jacket.” Lance stared him down. Keith looked offended, pulling his jacket closer about him.

“You have 15 others! I’ve seen them! You wear a different on every day! This one doesn’t even fit you anymore!”

“And that was my hunting jacket! Hence why it is red.” At some point their brows had collided, and they were just screaming into one another’s faces.

Hunk sighed, and stood, dusting off his hands. “Guys.”

“He started it!” They blamed the other in perfect unison. It earned another exasperated sigh. Then Hunk cracked his knuckles, and separated them forcibly.

“I, for one, am not spending the night here in the Spine.” Hunk informed them. “You go ready some bindle-sticks. You go cut us some poles on the other side of the clearing. And if I hear one, 1, more peep out of either of you, you will be carrying _everything_ we’ve caught today, and Katie.” He didn’t often find enough growl to intimidate, but when he did it was fucking terrifying. Both smaller males swallowed hard, and scattered in opposite directions.

Katie sighed. “Thank fuck.”

“Would you mind helping me pack?” Just like that, the growl was gone.

“I’m sure I could manage somehow.” They pulled free more oiled skins, and passed some over to Hunk with ease.

Lance ended up making enough noise pole-cutting that he had to carry his entire deer, all 100+ pounds of it. They’d made it halfway out of the mountain range when Keith suddenly swore.

“I will give you more to carry.” Hunk was saddled with a whole mess of meat and other carcass parts, including heads.

“No, no, I jut forgot my dagger up in the clearing. I will be back late.” He darted back into the trees, as quickly as he could carrying so many hides.

“Useless shit. Hope he gets eaten by wolves.” Lance huffed after his retreating back. Hunk didn’t speak, he just added the buck’s head to Lance’s pack as he passed, continuing down the mountain.

“Hope he finds that. Isn’t it like his only heirloom?” Katie asked.

“I think we should wait on him. The mountains are dangerous at night.” Hunk grimaced. Lance sighed.

“He’ll be... He’s got a sword n’ shit.” He hadn’t stopped. “We can come be the cavalry if he’s not back by tomorrow.” He could feel his feet sliding on the dirt, and soon it would be too dark to take this descent so heavily laden. He didn’t fancy carrying this much meat in the heart of wolf territory, in the middle of the night.

Hunk seemed to share his thoughts, and they proceeded down the mountain as planned.

Keith found his dagger exactly where he’d left it, next to the outed fire. He had to fight off a few scavengers, and one hungry looking wolf to get to the centre of said clearing. But soon his treasured smaller blade was back in its sheath where it belonged.

Breathing a sigh of relief, he turned, and started back down the mountain again. It was well and truly dark at that point, but he felt content he could make the descent. The moon would rise well into the sky before he hit the hard parts.

There was a sudden cracking noise that took that assurance and tipped it on his head. It sounded like the crack of a tree ready to fall, and he couldn’t see it. He pinned himself against the roots of a nearby tree, and preyed that it wasn’t this one.

After a while of only his pounding heart to break the silence – even the nightlife had gone deadly silent at the crack – he peered out from his meagre shelter. There was no crash yet. Maybe he had time to escape the vicinity before it fell?

He moved forward, light and quiet. No noise, for that could upset the balance the widow-maker was holding. So intent on the dark trees was he, that he missed a very obvious detail.

He tripped over a boulder that had not been in the middle of the path before.

He hit the dirt with a yelp. Grit and roots stung his palms where they had connected. His shin now ached. He sat up in confusion, letting the hides fall wayside for the moment.

In the centre of the path, ringed by a dark charbroiled explosion, sat a blue stone. It steamed lightly, as though it had come through hellfire to get there. The first slivers of moonlight made it glow almost ethereally.

Keith watched it critically. When it failed to move, or otherwise betray any malicious intent, Keith stood. With as much caution as possible, he reached out, and poked the smooth, glassy surface.

Nothing happened. It was cool to the touch, again like glass. He eventually lifted it, and was surprised at the low weight. It was still heavy. But not as much as it looked. A perfect oval in shape.

He’d keep this shiny rock. He had every intent to sell his spare hides, to squirrel away some savings. This too would sell, he was sure.

Making room in the bag he carried was harder than it looked. At least without damaging the feathers from Katie's waterfowl. In the end he just had to carry the rock, and not die without the use of his hands. His trip was slower than anticipated because of it. But he eventually made it down and out of the mountains, and had time to laugh at an obvious spill of Lance’s besides. He entered the town just after dawn, and was home just after lunch.

Home was four farm houses built side by side. A massive shared barn loomed far behind them, separated by long fields. The oldest house was peeling paint in the bright autumn day, and the newest was still receiving its first coat. There was the sound of people everywhere, children and adults, livestock and poultry. Someone was out back with the laundry, and a dog ran between houses with someone’s bonnet.

The McClain households were a busy place every hour of the day, and many hours of the night. It didn’t take long for him to be spotted, but it was enough time to truly consider the mountains, and their silence. He was surrounded by children, a dog, several women, and the matriarch of the group a moment later.

“Keith, dumpling, we were worried! Have you eaten, slept?” Lluvia was the mother or grandmother of this lot, and Keith had no place to deny her worries or orders. “Pass off your hides, dear, no, Suzanne careful with his rock, we’ll start those stretching don’t you worry, you wash up and feed yourself. I cannot believe Lance left you in those god awful mountains over night, never mind by yourself!” She liked to touch his face. He wasn’t sure why, but she did it to the rest too. He didn’t deny her. “You’re not hurt, are you child?”

“I’m fine, Mrs McClain.” He assured gently. “I had no issues on the way down. Did the others get in safe?”

“Oh, yes, Lance is a little bruised, but Hunk ensured he made it home in one.” She ushered him forward, into the oldest of the farmhouses. “You must have been so scared, not even a man yet and already abandoned to the wilds by your own brother. I’ll skin that boy and you can tan his hide with the rest!”

“I had no issues on the mountain, Mrs McClain, I’m fine.” His words were mostly ignored, as he was pressed into an ancient kitchen table, and a rich venison stew was pressed into his hands. It was still warm from the lunch break.

“Now Lance is mucking the hog pen for you, you can rest until dinner, and Papa will want the weather off the mountain then so we can plan the harvest accordingly, and Oliver found another stick he thinks you would like, and,” This family literally never stopped with the noise. He missed the mountains so bad. But the mountains did not make such handsome meals. He was sure they didn’t have such comfortable beds, and an endless supply of busying chores.

“Are you sure you want me to rest?” He wanted that bed so bad. “The season’s almost over, Mr McClain will need all the hands he can get in the field.”

“Papa’s got my whole brood to help.” She tweaked his ear gently. “You can help tomorrow, another night won’t spoil anything. My hip says no snow for another week at least. Did you find the rock in the Spine?”

“Mm. Think it’ll sell?”

“I’ll help you haggle it out with the traders personally, Love.” She personally refilled his bowl twice, before sending him to bed for the rest of the day. He left her with the breakdown of who’s was who’s, 2 deer were his, 1 deer was Lance’s, Hunk had rabbit, and Katie was the waterfowl and feathers. He was glad to see his bed, and the blue rock set gently on his pillow. If he hadn’t heard anyone sneak in the back, he was probably more tired than he thought.

Lifting the rock, he sat. It gleamed in the sunlight, perfectly blue, and spider webbed with white veins he hadn’t noticed before. When he held it before the window, it cast the room in cool blue tones.

Eventually he laid down, rock cradled against his chest. It was cool against his chin, but warmed quickly. He dozed off against it, dreams exaggerating the riches that this rock would bring him.

He woke when it was dark again, to two little faces peering at him. Oliver and Molly were the babies of the family, only 4 years of age. Their job was to feed the chickens, and collect people when the current meal was ready. Keith could only imagine what they were there for, since there was also a very small fistful of cracked corn on the pillow beside him.

“Dinner?”

“Ya.” Oliver gave him a second fistful of corn.

“Okay, okay, I’m coming.” He shooed them off. Keith stood, and stretched languidly. His face was creased from the pillow, and his jacket sleeve. His rock gleamed in the light from the hall, shine and blue as ever.

He tucked it into his pillow case. His sword and dagger went under the bed in their usual place. Then he proceeded to dinner, steeling himself to the expected noise.

Lance was in the middle of telling them all about how he’d had to wrestle a pig for dear life in very colourful manner. No one was listening, as they were all currently relating their days. Keith counted no less than 15 people at the table, and there were a few spare children hiding under it.

They were all tanned farmers, with hair between a warm walnut and rich black earth. Some had curls, others had straight locks, some had a cacophonyof both. Husbands varied more, but in general they fit into the landscape of family at the table. Keith was the only one so pale, but they accepted him into their fold.

Mortimer McClain clapped Keith on the back when he sat at his usual spot between him and Lance. “Made‘er down the mountain in one piece I see.”

“Yes sir.” He nodded.

“Papa was worried about you. You’d better say you’re sorry, Keef!” Lance jibed.

“I’m sorry, Mr McClain.” He added automatically, parrying Lance’s spoon with his hand.

“No, no, it’s fine, Keith.” The older man grinned. “I know how you get about that knife of yours. I blame Lance more for leaving you alone up there. But what’s done is done. Did you catch any snow?”

“No, Sir. It froze over anything still both nights, though. Pretty thickly too. I can imagine we’ll get our first deep frost within the week.”

“We’ll pull up the squash and the barley tomorrow, then. We got the last of the tomatoes in today. We’ll be fine then, as long as the actual snow holds off until after we get the wheat in.”

“Yes Sir.”

“So Keith, what’s with that rock?” Suzanne asked from the far side of the table. Her newest baby didn’t want to eat her mushy vegetables.

“Rock? Didja find something cool and not show me, Keith?” Lance nosed in.

“Yes. I found it. It’s mine.”

“Whereabouts?” Lance needed to know.

Keith paused, wondering. He probably shouldn’t mention it literally appeared out of nowhere, with a noise that would strike fear into the bravest soul. “Just off to the side. On a deer trail. Musta missed it on the way up. Also you left your arrow up there Lance. Good luck finding that again.”

“I’ll just steal one of Pidge’s.”

“I’m telling.”

“Boys, no fighting at the table.” Mama chided.

“Yes Mama.”

“Yes Ma’am.”


	2. Dweebcember

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Many word much write

Lance swung his person into Keith’s room the next morning before he could shut the door. Keith glared at him, expression very pointed. He needed to leave.

“Show me the sparkly.” Lance demanded.

“No, it’s mine, fuck off.” He pointed Lance out of his room.

Lance was terrible at following direction. “Now you usually keep your fanciest goods under the bed – but there’s nothing new there.” He wiggled into said space to snoop.

“I’m going to murder you, Lance. Get out of my room!”

“I wanna see the sparkly!” Lance demanded. “Show me the sparkly!”

“No!”

“Yes!”

“Absolutely not! Your father needs us in the fields. And it’s still mine!”

“Absolutely yes! There are hours of daylight left.”

“I will drag you out of this room so help me-” Keith grabbed his foot and yanked. Lance screeched, grabbing the bed. He was dragged from the room, bed frame in tow. Mama cocked a brow when she arrived to investigate the source of the yelling. They fought like children still. Unfortunately, Keith would hurt himself before Lance’s grip abated. She knew her childrens’ strengths. 

“Boys.” She interrupted, voice warning.

“Let go, Lance!” Keith was putting his entire weight behind his tugging. 

“It’s a rock just show me already!” Lance screamed in return, free leg flailing in an attempt to dislodge Keith’s grip.

“I don’t want to!”

“BOYS!” She was going to have to separate them again. "You’re almost men, please act like it!”

“But Mama!” Lance whined.

“No Buts, Lance.” She waded in, and lifted him to his feet. “Keith does not have to bare his every secret to you. Keith, really? Dragging him out kicking and screaming?”

“I’m sorry Mrs. McClain.”

“Mama-” Lance tried to reason with her.

“Respect people’s privacy, child of mine. Go do your chores.”

“Yes Mama.” He fell away, dejected. Keith huffed when he finally passed from sight. Mama cocked a brow at him.

“I’ll put the bed back.” He assured quietly. “Sorry.”

“He’s just an attention-whore, Keith.” She started. “A very stubborn child at heart. I’m afraid he’s set his mind to this.”

“I just know how he gets with blue things.” Keith admitted softly. “I’m worried he’ll... I don’t know. Try and filch it. Or something.” She cupped his face gently, eyes softening. 

“It’s yours, little one.” She murmured. “He will respect that, I assure you.” He searched her face quietly for a moment, then relented.

“I should hit the fields.” He pulled away gently. 

“Put your bed back first.” She smiled, and left him to it.

Papa got his field emptied by the end of the day. Lance may have started harvesting the squash first, but Keith was quicker. It turned into a race that saw a field stripped in record time. They broke for lunch, then helped finish harvesting the barley. The first rows of wheat were falling as dinner was called.

Another busy dinner passed in noise. Once the meal concluded, and the last dish was washed and dried, Mortimer pulled Keith aside.

“Yes Sir?”

“Would you mind breaking out the rock? Is it very large? I need to start considering the waggon. Old Bess can only pull so much into town.”

“Mm.” Keith nodded, and went off to find it. It was still hidden in his pillow. He returned quickly, but Mortimer’s whistle of appreciation drew more attention than he’d like. He passed it off into the older man’s rough, weathered hands gently.

“A good sized crystal you’ve got. Light too, is it hollow?” He shook it gently, but was rewarded with no internal hint.

Keith shrugged. Who knew. Not he. Made sense weight-wise, though.

“Make sure you get a pretty penny off this. Probably worth more than just a few crowns. Especially if it can be broken down into a collection of sorts.” Mortimer passed it back gently.

“Mrs McClain promised to oversee the transaction.”

“Good. She’s a better eye at the whole estimation thing.” Mortimer nodded, pleased. “What do you think, Lance? How many crowns?”

Keith flinched, as Lance rounded his shoulder. He hadn’t heard the other boy come up. Lance cocked his head, before reaching to touch the smooth stone. Keith promptly held it out of his reach.

“C’mon I gotta weigh the thing in my hands, lemme see.” He made a grabby motion. Keith stared at him suspiciously. But eventually relented. 

“Oh, goodness this is heavy. How’d you carry it down the mountain, toothpick-arms?”

“Give it back.” Keith snapped, only to be evaded.

“M’not done yet. Looks like those sapphires that Ma brought in for Grace’s wedding. But lighter. Maybe turquoise? No, too translucent. Aquamarine? Anyways.” He turned it over carefully. “If you don’t get at least 500 crowns for this, you’re being robbed, Keith.”

“That is a lot of crowns.” Keith found himself agreeing, while his brain stopped. If he was right, this could be his ticket out into the world.

M ortimer nodded. It was a very high amount. He’d seen the numbers from the stones his wife had given their third daughter. It was a very lucky find.

Lance was entranced by the stone for another couple minutes. He, as Keith had predicted, was smitten by the colour. It was beautiful besides. And Lance liked all things beautiful.

He was eventually given his rock back, and allowed to stow it away.

The next morning, the boys were sent into town. Lance had to help ship the hides and feathers back to their friends, and while they were there, look for signs of the traders.

“Stay away from my rock, Lance.” Keith warned.

“Stay away from my rock, Lance~!” He mocked. “I’m just looking, don’t be a dweeb.” He had his hands on it already.

“Seriously, stop touching it, what if it breaks?”

“It’s pretty solid, Keith. I doubt it’s going to break. Isn’t that right, Rock Jr? Is your Rock Daddy being a fuss-pot? Yes he is~!” Lance was now baby-talking his rock. “Wanna come with us into town, Rock Jr?”

“No.” Was Keith rejecting the names, or just the concept of carrying it around? No one knew for certain.

“What’s that, Rock Jr? You wanna come with your Rock Mommy and Daddy?” Lance gasped. “Well come on then! Let’s go~!” and he swaggered out of the room, rock in tow, ignoring Keith’s protest. Keith followed, rage in the back of his throat.

They repeated the exchange every couple days. One day to harvest, the next to run into town for news. Every time Lance came, he insisted on bringing Rock Jr. He was a terrible mother. Keith took the time to inform him as such every time he got on Keith’s nerves.

A week passed, and then another. The first snow fell the night after they got the last of the hay baled.  The McClains were starting to get nervous as the winter set in. The Traders were late. If they took too much longer, they would be hard pressed for the next year at the very least. They needed the gold off the produce.

Keith set out early in the morning, running into town by himself as he was the fastest runner in the household. Even Lance’s long legs couldn’t beat him. He saw the extra smoke before he even entered the town.

A central fire had been lit, and all about it, a caravan of waggons was starting to unload, turning fresh snow to slush.

The Traders had arrived.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Saphira's egg would sell for about 3000$ US in today's market, if appraised as sapphire. I calculated this. It would also weight about 60 lbs. I heard that Eragon is shredded. I heard that Eragon has an 8-pack.


	3. 0w0 What's this??

The packing began immediately.

Lluvia was in charge of the organization of the waggon, as Mortimer set his children and grandchildren to bringing him everything she would need. Wheat and barley, squash and sausage. Five whole chickens, until someone caught Oliver and Molly placing the live birds on the bed of the waggon. A dog. No more dog. Lluvia’s varying knitting and quilting projects. More squash. The dog again. Another chicken.

The waggon was eventually packed to capacity, and the McClains calmed. They bedded down early, and were up before dawn the next day.

Their arrival in town was met with hails and greetings. Mortimer took Lance off to sell their many wares, as Keith and his rock were guided off by Lluvia.

The jeweller looked pleased to see Lluvia. “Back for more, Mrs McClain? I found some more of that Opal you enjoyed last year~” He raised the sheet over a carved box, and produced a silver rose brooch, crowned by a glimmering rainbow stone.

Keith’s was prettier.

“No no, not this year I’m afraid. Molly isn’t 16 for another dozen years. No, my boy Keith found something he’d like to sell.” She smiled warmly. “Would you agree to appraise it?”

“Oh, Spoils of the Deadly Spine! Of course, my dear, come in~!” He whisked his wares back into their box, and held the flap of his tent open for them. He followed them into the dim interior, with his goods.

Keith produced the stone with little prompting. It was heavy.

The jeweller fawned over the surface of the stone for a long moment. Lluvia would explain the finesse of the presentation to this child later.

They sat quietly, letting the man test the rock with all due care and respect. Measuring and consulting texts, running a small instrument over it. A gentle rap with a steel mallet produced a brilliant ringing noise that caused Keith worry, but it had done no harm to the polished surface of the rock. 

“Well.” The jeweller finally concluded.

“So?” Lluvia prompted.

“It’s harder than diamond, and hollow.” He started. “I do not think I can buy this off of you, Lad. Not this year. If you can give me a year, I may be able to find a buyer. I don’t have the gold on me right now to take it. It’ll go for a small fortune, though.”

“What is it?”

“Well, if you ask me – which you are – it seems to be a big, blue diamond. Almost definitely shaped with magic. But I’m not 100% sure on either. Yes, I do think that’s best. Hold onto this. I’ll head south, see if I cannot find you a buyer. When I come back next winter, then we’ll talk.”

Keith was released for the rest of the day after that. Their goods were selling well, so he was given a couple pennies to spend on treats with the rest of the McClain brood. They were to meet at Hunk’s house for dinner, and to not spoil their dinner with too much sugar.

In the centre of the cacophony of traders, a small bonfire continued to burn. Though noon had just past, already the mead and beer flowed into the men about the fire. Traders were all too happy to loosen their lips, and to spill the tales of the outside world. Those tales were the only reason Keith went anywhere near their loud, abrasive, somewhat smelly circle.

“So then I said, I says,” One proclaimed, “Honey, if the Urgals are headed south, away from the good looting and pillaging, ye owe me yer left tit.” He was already well past his limit.

“So they’re not headed south?”

“Oh, yes, theys is. Seems our glorious King Zarkon finally got ‘em their worth, and I got me a suckle on a glorious left tiddy.” He caressed the air, exaggerating the size of the bosom that he’d groped. The motion spilt mead on the ground; what a wasteful slob. But, if Urgals were headed south, it meant that the next year’s departure would be easy riding.

“But they’re pillaging everything they pass, though, are they not?”

“I can only imagine.” The drunken trader nodded solemnly. “But as I’ve heard it, they’ve already passed south of you’s folks. Shouldn’t be too much harry for yous. But us Traders, we’ve got a sharp dagger in erry hand, and ol’ Wilhelm’s himself a keen new horn. When we hit ‘em south of here, we’ll be prepared.”

“Do we know why they’re headed south, though? Can we be certain they won’t come back?” Keith asked.

“If ye’d open yer ears a little, sonny, and listen instead of yammering, you’d’ve heard! The good King Zarkon’s gotten em on their merry way!” The drunk sputtered. “Kids these days, no respect.”

“It was a fair question, though.” A craggy voice interrupted, defending Keith. General Iverson was old, and retired, but not above putting commoners in their place. “Can we be certain they won’t come back? Zarkon’s been in power over a century. Why would they run now?”

“Cuz those filthy vermin Varden are active again, that’s why.” The drunkard grinned. “I’d bet my bottom dollar, those rebel scum are so desperate for men, they’d even take monsters in. They’d do anything in their power to off our dear King, to throw this land into such strife and plague the likes of which we’ve never seen under His rule.”

Keith doubted that – even if his speech was incredible(ly drunk) – and chalked it up to some irregular migratory pattern. Maybe the next few winters would be especially deep and hard. Animals knew these kinds of things. He’d have been careful all the same, but his eyes would be kept sharp. 

The trader went on to talk about whatever came to mind. Drunken talk filled the area, broaching the price of gold, pretty women, trading for grain vs meat, how the hunting was outside the valley. Katie wove between the men, filling tankards, and collecting gold from people who really wanted nothing more than a pretty young ‘wife’ like them. Katie just did their job, tried not to grimace, and trying even harder not to break fingers that dared touch.

Keith got a visit once all the current tankards were full.

“Why me?” They asked, more mouthing the words than saying them.

“I’m sorry. Don’t murder.” He replied in kind. “It’s only a few days.”

“I am going to break the hand of the next one to touch me.” Katie promised silently, even as they bustled away to fill the next order.

Keith would have stayed, and watched the resulting fireworks. Katie was not known for their patience. But Lance’s saccharine tones floated above the crowds. He had been released. So Keith was out.

He could duck and dodge all day. Avoiding Lance was easy outside of the house – his voice tended to proceed him. He didn’t have to put up with him until it was time to meet back up at the Garrett’s house. Most of the people there were sniggering at Lance’s dejected expression when Keith finally reappeared beside him.

“I didn’t get to say goodbye to Rock Jr.” Lance pouted. “I am a terrible Rock Mommy.”

“The worst.” Keith didn’t bother correcting him.

“Don’t worry my daring Lance-my-love.” She tweaked his nose gently. “Rock Jr’s still in the waggon. You have a year to say your goodbyes to your crystalline child.”

“Gasp!” He blew out the door, leaving the rest to start dinner. Hunk cocked a brow, only to get a shrug from Keith. It was still a rock.

“Rock... Mommy.” Hunk had to actually ask for clarification. He got another shrug. It was Lance. Lance tended to not make sense when he was Lance. “Okay.” Hunk settled for that. 

“Rock Jr!” Lance returned, holding the blue stone aloft. Hunk was not alone in whistling approval. His parents were also impressed.

“Nice, where’d you find it, Keith?”

“Spine. Spotted it when I went back for my dagger.”

“Nice. Can I-?” Hunk extended a hand.

“No, no, both hands! Rock Jr is very precious-!” Lluvia sighed in the background. At least she would never have to worry over Lance being overly incapable with children.

“Sure.” Keith allowed. Hunk was the least likely to break it.

He turned it over in his hands once he had it. “Pretty. Had it assessed?” He passed it back to Keith.

“Mm. Wasn’t sure what it was.” Lance commandeered the stone after a moment, despite protest.

“What did the Jeweller- oh, you meant the Jeweller.” Hunk nodded.

“It’s shiny, and Lance seems to think it’s his.” Keith could not offer better.

“I will fight you for custody of our child,” Lance stated with no small amount of certainty.

“You mean _my rock_.”

“Shh, don’t listen to him, Rock Jr. He’s just grumpy today.” There were snorts around the table.

“Anyways. Since we’re all here together.” Mr Garrett stood at the head of the table. “I’ll be making the official announcement tomorrow morning. Hunk turns 18 at dawn tomorrow, officially making him a man. With that, I will be able to finally grant him his Journeyman status.”

Hunk went red, as the gathered clapped and whooped.

“My boy is brilliant and gifted. Already we have had two or five masters come through, asking to take him on. Hunk has decided that he will spend his first year in Therinsford’s Smithy. Not my choice, but maybe he can teach them a thing or twelve about metalworking.”

Amid the laughter and further clapping, Lance gasped loudly. “You’re _leaving_ me?!” He sounded so distraught.

“Lance, it’s just a year! I’ll be just two days down the road!” Hunk raised his hands in protest. “You won’t miss me a minute!”

“Bringing me to the other point, Lance, if I could finish?” Mr Garrett asked gently. “Lluvia, Mortimer, you know that I only have one child, and not for a lack of trying. Would you do me the honour and favour of letting me apprentice one of your boys, so that I might not be so lonely in the forge?”

“That doesn’t mollify the fact that Hunk’s leaving at all!” Lance protested.

“I’m Molly!” Molly crawled into Lance’s lap, displacing Rock Jr back into Keith’s care.

“I think it would be good for the boys to learn some skills outside of farm work.” Lluvia stated. “Not Oliver yet, though. He’s too little.”

“I started about his age.” Hunk commented.

“Yes but you’re a prodigal genius, Hunk. Oliver’s still working on the difference between chickens and humans.” Mrs Garrett stated.

“I like chickens!” Oliver offered.

“Lance, Keith,” Mortimer, spoke above the din. “Would either of you be interested in apprenticing with Solomon?”

“I want Hunk to stay forever!” Lance was decidedly distracted.

“I could learn to make swords?” Keith asked.

“It’s a more advanced technique, but if you were to stick around long enough.” Mr Garrett replied. By the boy’s grin, Keith was a sure thing. The fathers met eyes, then nodded in unison, and shook hands over the table.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Words happened very fast on no sleep me lovlies.


	4. FU c K Ing

Hunk was given his journeyman standing the next day at dawn. He left with the Traders several hours later, following the group through the pass to Therinsford. It was only the next town over. But Lance wept openly, like a bride sending her new husband off to war.

Keith stayed in town with the Garretts, as Lance and the McClains headed home. Lluvia took the rock with them, on the understanding that their busy farm was safer in it’s isolated fields than the smithy in the middle of town. Also, they needed Lance to stop crying somehow.

He still sniffled the entire way home. Sure, he now had unrestricted access to the rock Keith coveted so much, but it was a bittersweet victory. It didn’t fill the void rent by change.

He was mostly left alone once they were home.

He needed time to grieve, and come to terms with things, it was understood.

It was just short of midnight when he finally moved. The rest of the family had long since gone to bed. He considered his bed, but found himself in Keith’s empty room instead. His freshly tanned hides were still drying in there. His varying interesting bobbles still collected dust in their usual spots. His clothes – some previously Lance’s, others new – were still folded neatly. His sword was tucked in its usual spot, though Keith had taken his dagger.

Keith was still in this room, if not physically. Lance was probably weird, laying on his ‘brother’s’ made bed, taking comfort in his smell and rock and presence. He blamed it all on Hunk leaving so suddenly, and dozed off still clutching the stone.

He was woken by a squeak. He sat bolt upright, looking about wildly for the mouse. The rodents were a hazard at best. He jolted when the squeak issued again, from near his crotch. The rock was making the noise.

“...Hello?” he leaned down, pressing his face against the rock. It squeaked again, vibrating the stone, as it started to shake. Lance couldn’t stop it from shaking and vibrating its way from the bed, rocking into the centre of the room. It lurched there a few more times before it exploded.

In the wreckage of the rock, sat a tiny blue creature, not much larger than the average housecat. It cleaned itself vigorously, stripping glittering scales of embryonic fluid and sac. The rock had been a fucking egg, this entire time.

Lance squeaked himself when the ‘cat’ spread wings twice as long as itself. It paused immediately, finding him with giant yellow eyes. It then went back to cleaning itself.

“What the fuck?” He started to lower himself off the bed, but his foot caught a yolk-slick chunk of egg, and he was sent sprawling with a groan. The dragon, for that was the only conceivable thing it could be, jerked, and arched up in fear. He sat up slowly, trying not to spook the poor thing any more than already done.

“Sorry, sorry,” He murmured, offering a hand. The hatchling calmed slowly, nostrils flaring. But it ignored his hand, instead sniffing at his right foot, the one that had caught the egg-shell. After a moment it began cleaning said foot with short, brisk licks.

The moment it touched him, his leg went numb with icy needles. White-hot light filled him and his mind, and he swore he was dying. And then he was fine, but for a bruised ego, a baby dragon licking his toes, and his mind feeling oddly open. As though he’d float away into infinity open, because some wall he’d never noticed had fallen. There were things out in that void, he picked up on instantly. He wasn’t sure he wanted to meet them.

“Keith is going to kill me, Rock Jr.” He finally managed. One of the somethings out in the void glanced against his mind, and he winced. But it didn’t feel malicious, just curious. He did his best to push it away, rather than delve deeper.

He eventually managed to coax the baby into his arms, where he could inspect it better. Them. Its were inanimate. This was a they. They were as blue as their egg had been, with ivory horns and spines down their neck. Tiny ivory claws pricked his fingers, but not strong enough to draw blood. Tiny ivory teeth, when they yawned. Those would cause more damage.

In the middle of their brow was a red spot. Lance wasn’t sure if it was a birth-mark or a discolored scale. Or just an egg-tooth. He couldn’t tell. Lance paused, then smiled warmly at the small creature.

“Hi, I’m Lance.” He introduced himself quietly. The curious presence pressed up against him again. “I guess I’m your mom now. Are you hungry?”

The curiosity flashed confusion for a moment, then it flashed into deep, unabating hunger. Yes. This little creature was hungry, very hungry.

Lance stood slowly, minding egg shards. The house was still dark and quiet – he couldn’t have slept more than a few hours. He stole into the kitchen, tiny life in his arms. He returned to Keith’s bedroom with several strips of jerky and a knife.

His new friend gobbled up the lot, snapping teeth minding his fingers with delicate ease. And then sleepiness pressed against his mind. He agreed quietly, rubbing at his eyes. “Let me just pick up the shards so we don’t hurt ourselves come morning, yeah?” He lowered the baby onto Keith’s pillow.

He joined them in sleep as soon as the sharp shards were swept away into a small empty bag, and set with all the other trinkets in Keith’s room. Fuck Hunk and Keith. He had a new best friend. His baby dragon.

* * *

Keith was up early as well. This house was _quiet_ compared to the McClain household. As much as he craved quiet, he wasn’t entirely sure about the sudden silence. Just him, and the Garretts. He found himself in the forge long before Mr Garrett even woke, unsheathed dagger in hands.

It wasn’t like most he’d seen. The steel was black as coal, and the edge never dulled no matter what he used it for. There was a bit of amethyst in the cross-guard and ending the pommel. He usually kept it wrapped, so that any wandering hands he passed weren’t tempted to relieve him of it and the purple stones.

The blade was priceless, he knew. But the oddity was in how he’d come into it. Someone, 17.75 years ago, had hidden the blade in a bassinet, and placed a baby on top of it. Rather than leave the child on the doorstep of an orphanage, or a covenant, he was dropped off in the middle of the town square. No one had seen his abandoner, he’d been there half the night. He’d finally been rescued by a woman going into labour with her fifth child, a son. Lance.

He’d been raised beside that childish asshole. 16 years, he’d never suspected a thing. But on their 16th birthday, she’d come clean. He hadn’t had the heart to call her Ma since.

He couldn’t call her Ma. Not until he faced his birth mother, and held her up against the McClain version, and saw just how she fell short, and gained a whole new appreciation for the woman who’d raised him as her own. That was how it was supposed to happen. That was how this sort of thing worked.

“You really shouldn’t draw in the dirt with your knife. It’ll dull the blade.” The voice behind him startled him badly. It was just Mr Garrett. But he was in a defensive position already anyways. He could take the laughter, it was the lightest of blows that could fall on him. “Spook easy, don’t ya?”

“Little.” He admitted very softly.

“I’ll try and recall that. Now, as I was saying, you shouldn't-”

“I heard you.” Keith interrupted softly. “It’s fine. Doesn’t need sharpening.”

“All blades need sharpening, kiddo.” A broad hand – Hunk had gotten them from him – extended, palm up. “May I see?”

“...” He looked the blacksmith up and down, before relenting. “It’s sharp.”

“And immaculate.” Mr Garrett inspected it with a critical eye. “Pretty thing, if a little large for a dagger. Where’d you get it?” he passed it back gently.

“Only clue I got.” He replied.

“To?” There was a pause. “Oh, to who the Koganes are. Right. Sorry. Anyways. Couldn’t sleep?”

“S’quiet here.” Keith found the cloth he used to wrap the hilt. Mr Garrett smiled fondly. He looked so much like Hunk with that expression. It was hard to stay on guard.

“Your brood is just loud. It’ll make it easier to accustom to forge life in the end. Breakfast?”

“Would be great, thanks.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~Plot~


	5. WWLD

Lance woke again to excited chattering outside Keith’s door. He couldn’t hear what was being said, other than imminent entry.

“Shh. Some of us are trying to sleep!” He informed the speakers. There was a muffled sorry, one of his sisters, he thought, and he rolled over to go back to sleep. There was something on Keith’s pillow.

He blinked at the tiny dragon nestled next to him. Every other breath, a tiny plume of smoke escaped their nostrils. It was very cute.

“Oh yeah, that happened last night, didn’t it?” He asked. The blue dragon shifted, then blinked up at him sleepily. He should... probably do something? What would Keith do in this situation?

Probably curl up under the bed and be edgy until the people who cared about him left. Sounded right. Stupid Keith.

What would Hunk do?

Probably have an anxiety attack until he puked, or someone else dealt with it. Jerk. Leaving him alone.

What would Pidge do?

Uncertain. Somewhere between babble a lot, and swear every other word. Unhelpful. Thank you for your non-input.

What would Lance do?

Well, Lance of yesterday would have showed them off crowing with glee. But Hunk was gone, and Keith was a butt-face. So Lance of yesterday was MIA for the moment.

So Lance of today was going to have to wing it. Luckily, Keith was a fucking nerd, and left a pair of boots in his closet, as well as a plethora of clothes. Many of which were previously Lance’s, so they couldn’t fit too badly, right?

Lance of today was fucking wrong.

But his ass was covered, and the clothes were clean. So he shoved the dragon into his shirt with the pillow to keep them warm, and burst from the room. He got laughter, as he bemoaned how he was with Hunk’s child, when would the father return from the war? Would he ever see his son/daughter? Would Keith ever stop being a jerk long enough to be a good uncle? And he escaped out of the house with little difficulty.

Behind the barn the forest and the Spine rose up in wild disarray. Within the thickets of trees, was an old club-house he and Keith had built as children. Back when they were brothers still.

It was falling apart, just like they were.

There was a brush of confusion off of his tiny charge. He tucked them into the small cabin gently. “My mom and dad are cool. But I dunno how they’d feel if they found out about something as cute as you.” He explained.

A tiny chirp.

“No, stay here. I’ll find more padding, and some more planks so it’s not as open. Can you stay?”

A louder chirp. Did they really understand? Or was this just a noise they made? Lance chewed his lip, then knelt in the snow, and pressed a hand to their side.

This was HOME. This was SAFE. They should STAY HERE. Their consciousness was becoming more and more familiar. Lance smiled softly, when he stood and this time she didn’t chirp protest. Good.

He would be back very soon. He promised it silently.

His mother cocked a brow when he returned without ‘hunk’s child’. “I hope you hid Keith’s rock somewhere where it won’t get stolen.”

“Yeah, it’s just behind the barn.” He answered automatically. “I mean! No! How dare you, mother-mine! I would never hide Keith’s stuff without his permission, and hide it in a place only I know. Do not be absurd!”

“Just so long as it’s not lost or vulnerable.” She patted his hair. “Go get dressed in your clothes, and put Keith’s back. I know you miss him dumpling, but I have breakfast to serve, and children to farm chores out to.”

“Yes Mama,” He murmured, and padded off to do so.

He dragged some old blankets out into the cold just before sundown, as well as several fat fistfuls of meat. He hadn’t found more planks, but with one blanket over-top the hut, and another lining the inside, it looked very cozy. Rock Jr chirped appreciatively, curling up on the pillow. Lance was going to have to replace that later.

He dragged a log over beside the hut so he wouldn’t have to sit in the snow while he broke down the jerky. His new friend snapped up several pieces immediately when he turned them over, but left the rest for later. Her big yellow eyes watched him when he stood.

“Sorry, love,” He cooed, booping their nose gently. They arched up into the touch, and he was obligated to spend a few minutes finding the places they liked being scratched. “I’ve gotta head in, unfortunately. My mother worries.”

A soft chirp dissolved into happy purring. Love, acknowledgement, warmth and safety. Their little presence was growing larger and deeper already. He wondered idly if this was what it felt like to be a parent, watching something become from nothing. It was exhilarating.

The next weeks were spent with many trips out to his little charge. Who, within those short weeks, began growing at a rather daunting rate.

From the size of a cat, to a large dog, from a large dog to a mountain lion. Lance was terribly lucky that they learned to hunt quickly, picking off birds that dared come too close to their little hut, and moving onto anything they could catch.

One of their few sheep went missing that way. He had to sit down, and explain how the farm worked after that. Nothing fluffy like that. Not the dog. Not the other humans, big or small, one would do better to avoid those, actually. Deer were good eats, though. Deer, and mountain goats. Any wolves that approached.

They also learned to fly in those weeks. It was a sight to behold, as they took to the air, and collided with him with a happy cry. Lance rewarded their efforts with pets and scratches and a flood of praises. He could spend hours, watching their blue form dart about with all the ease of the sparrows and chickadees.

In the town, Keith was busy. He’d never been the strongest boy, struggling with anything that crested to or above 100 pounds. But he was given a hammer, and taught how to beat white-hot steel into shapes. He burned himself so many times, even with gloves.

He may not have been as strong, or smart, or as naturally talented as Hunk, but Mr Garrett saw use in his speed and agility. Or at least he said so, as he set Keith to making nails. Trillions of nails. Beat the metal pure, draw it through into wire 1/4 of an inch thick, Cut and flatten, cut and flatten, cut and flatten.

It was boring, and tedious. Keith saw no point. Making many quadrillions of nails could not possibly be the forge-work he had signed up for. But at least it was metalworking, unlike the other jobs he was set to.

Fill the fire with more coal and charcoal. Pump the bellows. Air, heat, water, noise. Again and again, in circles he was forced to run. Pass a sledgehammer! Quickly now! Pass those tongs, no the other ones! More wire. More nails. More heat, more more more.

Keith was tired at the end of every day. Exhausted. He wasn’t entirely surprised when an entire month had passed.

He came down to find the Garretts grinning like cats over cream. “Yes?”

“You’ve done very well, Keith.” Mr Garrett explained. “You’re improving rapidly.”

“Thanks. Had a good teacher.” He sat. That made the man grin even wider.

“So I am going to send you home for a few days. Not because you’ve displeased me, but because you have earned a break, without a doubt.” Mr Garrett explained. “And when you come back, I’m thinking we’ll only do nails every few days. Move you up to screws and some basic farm tools, if you would be agreeable.”

“Is there really a need for so many nails?” He finally asked. “It seems like an awful lot I’ve made already.”

“Well, think about it, Keith. Everything we build uses either a nail, or a screw, or a wooden peg. If you want to mount something on the wall, another nail is needed. Repair a waggon. Nails, Screws. Build a fence? You need 4-6 nails for every post and panel. Furniture? Dozens. And that’s without counting the ones that break, or bend, or need to be redone.” Mr Garrett chuckled. “I could make nails every day, all day, and we’d still fall short.”

“That’s a lot of nails.” His mind boggled at the number. He could only make one for every 4 the older smith could.

“But there’s another use to making the fresh metalworkers do nails on end. Can you guess it?” Mr Garrett asked. Keith pushed through his mind to find the factoid he needed to answer the question, but it wasn’t there.

“No.” He finally admitted.

“Well, I’ve caught you doing shadow-dances with your dagger. Why do you do that?”

“To build up muscle memory and strength-” He stopped. “You had me making nails so that I could increase my strength without overdoing it.”

“You don’t struggle quite so much with the coal boxes anymore.” Mrs Garrett grinned widely.

Keith considered his hands. He had grown stronger.

Maybe now he could win, if Lance tempted fate, and tried to fight him.

The walk to the farm was a quiet one. The snow had been undisturbed since the Traders. Keith had to fight a couple drifts, but he eventually arrived. He was greeted with bright warmth, and noise.


	6. Witness Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Witness Them.

How were the Garretts, darling?” Lluvia asked sweetly, as she took his sodden clothes, and hung them over the fire. “You haven’t been kicked out, have you?”

“No.” He assured softy, happy for the warmth after the cold winter. “They say I’m making good progress. I’ve got a few days to rest.”

“Oh excellent!” She kissed his brow, squishing his cheeks fondly. “We’ve missed you terribly, child.”

“It was really quiet, without everyone there.” He admitted softly. The words earned him another kiss, and a warm hug.

“Lance misses you terribly. The boy’s taken to haunting out behind the barn, if you choose to go hassle him. Otherwise, he should be in about sunset.” She smoothed his hair affectionately, then went to tend to one of the varying chores about the house.

Oliver and Molly took over his care, showing off things they had made, or found. Keith had seen many of these things before, but he was content to listen as he dried off and warmed. By the time he felt human again, they’d bored, and were telling stories as they played between the fire and him. He watched them entertain themselves until a hand took his shoulder.

“Welcome home.” Mortimer smiled. His nose was very red with cold. Keith let him take over the chair so he could warm too. “Did you enjoy yourself in town?”

“Mr Garrett is a very demanding man, but I’m learning well, he says.” Keith reported.

“You are a smart one. You’ll do great things one day.” Mortimer patted his hair. “Here a few days, or just for the one?”

“A few. What do you need done?”

“Lance has been running off before I can put him to it, but there’s something out in the trees, scaring the livestock. Been finding big turds from a carnivore, and an ewe went missing last week. Some of the fecal matter has sheep bones in it. Would you mind going out into the trees, maybe finding our predator?”

“I can do that.” He nodded. “Does it look feline or canine?”

“Oddly enough? Neither. It’s close enough that I was thinking a puma for a while, but then I found an old set of tracks. Something with five toes, and four legs. I think it can fly?”

“That sounds like a dragon.” Keith blurted.

Mortimer laughed at the idea. “Well, if the king’s come to visit, don’t invite him in for tea.”

Keith waded out into the cold again about mid-afternoon. He wouldn’t get far this late in the day, but he could have a starting point at least. Behind the barn Lance’s gait broke into a run more than once, leaving a mess of trails and tracks. Keith followed them out into the woods, keeping his eyes peeled for either the other male, or traces of the predator.

They appeared a hundred paces in.

Larger and heavier than a puma by far. Claws and a long, winding tail, with marks off to the sides where wings had hit the soft snow. There was a lot of activity in this snow, something bouncing and circling rather than actively hunting. But of the actual creature, and Lance, there was no sign. So he just followed Lance’s prints once the creature’s fell away into the sky.

Keith was a good tracker. Even so, he was confused by the circles that Lance was wandering in. It wasn’t so hard to follow, as though he was trying to loose any follower. But it seemed as though he just couldn’t decide which way he was going to go.

But he did eventually find him – saccharine tones breaking through firs and snow.

“Wow, that was fucking gorgeous! Can you do that again? If you twist like this, you should be able to catch yourself before you crash.” There was a growl that chilled Keith’s bones deeper than the frozen air could.

He peered through the trees, dagger half unsheathed. Lance was dressed for the weather, and spinning in circles. Every now and again he dipped to one side or another, changing direction, or ambling free of a corkscrew. Beside him, was a blue beast that had before only existed in storybooks.

It was taller than Lance’s gangly frame, with a head not much larger than Lance’s shoulders were broad. A thick, square face ended in a blunt muzzle. Little fleshy whisker-spine-scales twitched every time the creature breathed. Thick horns in the shape of blunt triangles crowned the beast. Between its brows was a brilliant red diamond-shaped marking.

It shimmered in the light, bluer than the bluest blue Keith had ever seen. Its chest was lighter, and the membrane between its wings was slightly darker without protective scales. Its tail went on for miles

This was a dragon.

This was a dragon that watched his stupid family member spin himself dizzy, with enough affection to rival Mrs McClain’s for the same idiot boy.

Lance laughed when it took off, falling back into the snow to watch. Keith had to cover his ears as the beast’s wings clapped the air, dragging it into the sky.

The lazy way it carved into the clouds led Keith to believe it wasn’t coming back any time soon. He burst forward, and grabbed Lance, clapping a hand over the loud-mouth’s mouth, and dragging him back under the cover of the trees. Lance looked very scared to see him. Or surprised. Surprised was possible too.

“Keith?” Lance demanded, wrenching away.

“What the fuck are you doing with a dragon, Lance?” Keith demanded. “Where did you even get that? We need to get out of here before it goes on a rampage and kills the whole town!”

“Uh, no.” Lance broke free of the trees, and stared up at the clouds. He seemed to be concentrating.

“Don’t no me, we have to get the town ready to defend!”

“Just wait!” Lance beamed, and it was so pure it gave Keith a pause. He stared up at the clouds apprehensively. He did not like this.

Like a javelin, the dragon burst out of the clouds at top speed. It coiled into a corkscrew, mimicking Lance’s earlier circles. Every time it turned and twisted, it glittered like a million sapphires. Lance whooped and clapped, encouraging the beautiful animal as it descended at high speed and greater agility.

Only to crash in the last turn as a wing failed to coil it back into the air. It picked itself up with dignity, and crouched as though to try again. Lance’s waving stopped it.

“Rock Jr! Rock Jr!” He laughed as the massive muzzle pressed into his chest. “This is Keith, your Rock Daddy.” Keith froze as massive yellow eyes turned onto him, and studied him critically.

“H-hi?” He tried.

‘ _Please do not call me Rock Jr.’_ A soft voice floated into his mind. Keith squawked in very unmasculine fashion, lurching backwards. His fall was softened by snow.

“Don’t deny your name, Babe.” Lance grinned.

‘ _I do not like it though._ ’ They huffed, flumping down into the snow too. ‘ _I would like a different name._ ’

Lance joined them happily. “Well, I gave you a bazillion names earlier. Choose one of those.”

‘ _No. I do not like them either. Rock Daddy, I would have your input._ ’ Keith lurched when he was addressed again.

“W-what names did you... what did Lance suggest?”

‘ _Rock Mommy gave me a bunch of human names. I want a name befitting a dragon. Like me._ ’ Keith snorted. Just as vain as Lance was.

“Are... you a girl Dragon? Or a boy Dragon?”

‘ _Neither, yet. I’m too young to consider it anyways. Names please._ ’ Keith swallowed as massive talons rent the earth below the snow.

“Um. There’s... uh.” He tried to recall what he’d heard from stories. “There’s Saphira, and Gleadr, Firnen. Thorn and Bid’Daum, and Urumar and Ignimith and Belgabad and-”

‘ _No_.’ Came the tired rejection. ‘ _Listing off names isn’t going to help. Look at your beautiful child, Rock Daddy. Witness me. Tell me what you behold in my presence._ ’

“Uh, Um.” Keith faltered. “Blue?”

“You can’t just call them blue, Keith that’s dumb.” Lance huffed.

‘ _I like it. Call me Blue._ ’ The dragon interrupted.

“What? No! I might as well just call you Dragon if you want that for a name!” Lance protested.

‘ _My name, my choice. Sorry Mommy. Can’t win ‘em all._ ’ Keith had helped name a dragon today. He had witnessed a dragon, and spoken to them, and sat in the snow while they shot the shit over names and their suitability.

“... Blue did you eat the sheep?” Keith interrupted their argument.

‘ _Yes. It was tasty. But Lance says I cannot do so again._ ’

“Okay. Lance, your father told me to find whatever took the sheep.”

“Papa’s going to want a corpse then, isn’t he?”

“Except he’s seen this one’s tracks. He won’t believe it’s any old coyote.” Keith considered Blue’s nose, then reached out. It was warm when he touched it.

“Wait, what?” Lance blinked. “He hasn’t said anything to me?”

“He also says that you’ve been running off before he could pull you aside.” Keith added.

“Oh no.” Lance flopped back into the snow. “Bl- I mean. Rock Jr.”

‘ _Call me Blue._ ’

“Blue.” He finally relented. “Can you try and stay out further than usual for a while? I don’t want Papa to find you; he might try and hurt you.”

‘ _Maybe. We’ll see. Visit me more._ ’ They puffed up.

“I already visit you as much as I can.”

‘ _Visit me more, or I’ll move closer again._ ’

They started to walk back to the farm together, covered in snow. Talk was sparse for a good section of it, as Keith tried to process Lance’s new friend.

“A dragon egg?” He finally asked.

“Hatched the night after Hunk left.” Lance nodded. “Jr’s a cutie. should’ve seen them when they were just the size of a cat, though. Cutest thing I’ve ever witnessed.”

“And you’ve just been hiding it? Are you a Dragon Rider now? Or just their mother? Because you were present at the hatching?”

“What constitutes as a dragon rider, though?” Lance asked. “They’re too small to ride yet.”

“I- hm. I dunno.”

“You live in town though, right? Now? Maybe you can hassle Iverson for information for me,” Lance grinned. “Get me the deets.”

“Why? Iverson hates you. He’d never give me information for you.”

“Then ask for you, dummy!” Lance bounced forward a few steps, all smiles. “I’m sure you want every detail you can, what with being the father of a real life dragon!”

“... Why would I share? I hate you.”

“Wow. You wound me. 16 years we were brothers. And now you just shoot me down like this. Woe. Woe is me.” Lance spun about dramatically.

“... Fine, do that then.” Keith turned, and started cutting down the side of the hill. The barn was visible above the tree-lined horizon from here.

Lance huffed – his teasing was funner when Keith reacted loudly. But he followed, still singing laments to the lack of love he was receiving. Mortimer was waiting in the barn when they passed.

“Was starting to worry.” He commented lightly.

“Sorry Papa. Got distracted by birds.” Lance re-found his bright tone.

“Yes, well.” He took his son’s shoulder. “When I was your age, I kept ‘birds’ too. But I realized when these birds started posing a threat to those in the area, I couldn’t keep them any more. So if your birds, or wolf cubs, or baby mountain lion, or bear, or whatever it is that you’re tending to out there is starting to get dangerous, please do everyone a favour, and remember that wild animals are exactly that. Wild. Okay?”

“But I promised that I would be their mother.” Lance whined. “Mothers don’t just leave their baby behind because it’s inconvenient.”

“I know.” Mortimer soothed gently. “But unfortunately, we can’t afford anymore sheep, son.”

“I-”

“If it would be easier, I can intervene. I can keep you inside until the wilds take back what is theirs to begin with.”

“No.” Lance shook his head.

“Lance.” Mortimer was deeply concerned for both his son and his farm, in equal part.

“No, I’ll. I’ll take care of it. You don’t have to.. intervene.” Lance swallowed hard. Mortimer searched his son’s face. Then he smiled softly.

“If you need help, just ask, son.”

Keith watched the exchange mildly. Lance was not going to kill Blue. No way in hell. At worst, maybe try and chase them away. But chances were, he was considering parading Blue out.

Lance was formulating a plan, yes.

Parading Blue out was one of the facets of said plan. But Keith’s silent stare couldn’t possibly behold the concepts he was dealing with.

Keith was woken up late that night. He wasn’t entirely surprised to see Lance standing over him, a foolish grin on his features. He sighed, and sat up.

“What?” He asked, not quite managing his usual venom. He was tired.

“I’m going to run away with Blue, and we’re going to go make history. Want to come?” Lance was an absolute lunatic.

“What?” he asked, voice pitching up. “You’re- why?!”

“Well I can’t hurt Blue, they’re my baby.” Lance stated. “But I also promised Papa that I would make sure they don’t hurt the farm. The only conceivable thing is that I take them, and away.”

“Are you an idiot? It’s the middle of winter. And your ma will rip this kingdom in half in the morning.”

“I mean I’m going to pull this stunt whether you come or not, but I figured since they came out of your rock, it would only be polite to invite you on this adventure.”

“Oh my god.” Keith flopped back down against his pillow, rubbing his eyes. “What’s the time line for this _brilliant_ plan of yours?”

“I’m leaving tonight. Right now. I need to gather supplies from town, get a map off someone so I know where I’m going. And I need to figure out where I’m going. How to make history.”

“Lance.” Keith stopped him. “This plan is terrible. It barely constitutes as a plan; it’s more a whimsy than anything.”

“I just started it.” He admitted. “About 10 minutes ago, when I got up to pee.”

“It’s not terrible for a 10-minute-old plan concocted in the middle of the night on a full bladder. I’m going to be the responsible older one. Sleep on this plan, Lance. We can talk it out in the morning. Mrs McClain mentioned you’re going into town for a supply run. I’ll join you, we can bounce ideas off Pidge.”

“Yeah, Ma needs more fabric, so she’s sending me down with a couple sheets of wool.” Lance nodded. “Okay. Okay, I’ll try and sleep. Don’t tell Papa about Blue.”

“Wasn’t going to. Goodnight.” Keith snuggled back down back into bed. He froze when a heavy body took over the other half of his bed. “Lance?”

“Shut up, I’m worried.” Lance huffed. “Go to sleep.”

“Fine.” The beck pressed against his back was cooler than usual, but not uncomfortably.


	7. Planning

Lance was gone when he woke. But he was at the dinner table, chewing his way through a bowl of thick porridge. His eyes were tired yet, but his skin was clear and glowing, so he’d gotten some semblance of sleep.

His mother was explaining the fabric she needed for her current project. Varying colours and patterns were needed for the quilts she was making, so she was trimming scraps into swatches for the boy.

Listening carefully, Lance soon had everything he needed. Keith managed to eat his fill before she concluded with her rants.

“So will you be going with Suzanne or Grace? Felicia’s not allowed to do anymore lifting until that baby of hers arrives.”

“I was just going to take Keith.” Lance admitted. “Brotherly bonding, and all that?”

“Are you okay to do lifting, Keith?” She asked of him. “You’re supposed to be resting up for the forge-work.”

“I’ll make Lance carry most of it.” He assured gently. “If he doesn’t start picking up the pace, he’ll be the noodle-armed boy.” He raised his arm, and flexed.

Lance ogled. Keith had made progress, without him. The fucking asshole.

“Whoa boy, it is on!” He accepted the challenge, and dragged Keith off. Lluvia sighed. Those children. At least their usual contests were constructive and bettering.

Lance swore as he was beaten at getting his boots on, and again when Keith reached the prepared packs in the barn. Mortimer got a turn to shake his head as the boys raced away towards town. Neither noticed when he grabbed his crossbow, and set out behind the barn into the woods alone.

Keith beat Lance into town by a landslide. He had to stop, and breathe deeply while the other boy caught up. The townspeople felt no shame in laughing at the way Lance dragged himself into the square, emptying snow onto his face in a vain attempt to cool himself. He was a gasping sweaty mess too, but at least Keith was still upright.

It was short work, gathering the fabric Lluvia wanted. Apparently she had already ordered it, and since it matched the sent swatches – the seamstress had looked so offended when Lance actually checked her work instead of just flirting with her – they packed it up, and traded off the raw wool. The high quality fibre pleased her at least.

They then padded over towards the tavern. It was mostly empty, as Pidge tended the counter, cleaning their glasses instead of cups.

“What?” They asked when they saw the two approaching.

“Heya to you too gremlin-hands. So about that favour you still owe me,” Lance dropped his pack, and leaned over the glossy counter.

“I already repaid that. What do you want?” It was Pidge’s turn to gather favours, and they were making good on that.

“I need you to get me some Intel.” Lance admitted.

“From?”

“Iverson.”

“About?”

“Dragons. I’m writing a book.” Pidge slowly rose a brow. They were the least impressed person in the bar, despite Iverson himself.

“Could have just asked, McClain.” Iverson glared at him out of his one good eye. “That said, I wasn’t aware you’d learned your runes.”

“Wow. Ivy. See, this is why I don’t ask you things. You wound me.” Lance draped himself further over the table. Iverson shrugged dismissively, and emptied his tea.

“What does this idiot want?” He asked of Keith.

“I found a rock that hatched into a dragon. He has no idea what he’s doing.” Keith shrugged.

“Keith! Subtly! The Art of the Presentation! Has Mama taught you nothing?!” Lance demanded, even as Iverson straightened abruptly. “Oh my goodness, I was raised beside an absolute heathen.”

“What, really?” Pidge was suddenly very interested.

“Silent, girly.” Iverson snapped, standing. He dropped several gold coins on the counter, and took the boys by their coats. “This is a bar, not a storytelling circle. Do not waste people’s time like so.” He admonished them publicly.

“Take your idiot brother to my cabin, wait there until I get back.” was the much quieter statement, to Keith alone.

Keith was ousted from the bar with Lance. Lance huffed, upset. He really could have used the information in Iverson’s possession. Keith shook his head, then grasped Lance’s arm, dragging him deeper into the town.

The general’s home was the neat-looking cottage furthest from the mountain pass, while still being in the town. Lance frowned when Keith brought him right up to the door, and let them both in.

“Keith?”

“Iverson is the one who taught me to use a sword and dagger.” He admitted. “I keep forgetting to give him the key back.”

“But he just-”

“He’ll meet us here, in a bit.” Keith stopped him, and pulled off his boots. Iverson had no maid, nor wife, nor daughter. He would not take kindly to messes on his rugs. “Boots on the rack, coat on a peg, pack behind the door.”

“Jeez, didn’t have to throw us out, just to meet up with us after.” Lance continued to be offended, but otherwise respected the house rules. He discovered the varying swords mounted on the walls almost faster than Keith had, and was content to stand, ogling them while Iverson returned home.

“I think it was appearances,” Keith huffed.

“Says the one who has no idea how to fucking present.” Lance scoffed.

“I’m pretty sure appearances are different from presentation.”

“When you’re the idiot McClain, everything is the same.” Iverson growled, slamming the door behind him. “Don’t touch the blades, McClain. They’re sharp.”

“Yeah, I saw that. What’s all this about?”

“You two were the ones who just dumped information on a potential new dragon in the world, when we’ve had one, and only one, for over a century. Maybe you should be the ones explaining.” Iverson retorted.

“Well.” Lance puffed up, ready to fight or impress. He hadn’t decided yet. “Keith found a rock in the Spine. When it wouldn’t sell he decided to keep it. But then it hatched while he was away with the Garretts, learning to smith. Blue seems to like me.”

“You just found it, lying there.” Iverson asked.

“Well,” Keith rubbed the back of his neck. “To be honest, there was a crack, kinda like when a widow-maker’s about to come falling. Kinda scorched the ground where it appeared. Suddenly, it was definitely not there before.”

“You said you just found it off to the side! On a deer trail or something!” Lance felt betrayed that he had been given false information.

“”I figured that if the Jeweller had known it had appeared magically, he wouldn’t agree to appraise it. Or I’d be made to put it back.” He shrugged.

“You’re not wrong, Kogane.” Iverson relented slightly.

“Still. So are we in trouble? Did they come from someone who wanted them to hatch for them?”

“Yes. But not from me. We’ve been looking for that blue egg for years. The fact that it just appeared says that it was re-found, and sent up here for safekeeping.” Iverson stroked his clean chin. “We need to get you out of Alagaësia. And as fast as possible.”

“That’s a further difference than I was planning on.” Lance stated.

“You were leaving? To where?” Iverson frowned.

“Wasn’t sure yet. Blue kinda ate one of our sheep, and Dad’s worried about predators, so I was going to skip town maybe make history or-”

“That is the most half-baked plan I have every had the misfortune of witnessing.” Iverson stopped him. He reached into a nearby trunk, and pulled out a hefty scroll. It proved to be a high-quality map of the continent. Keith peered over his left shoulder as he made Lance inspect the map from the right. “I’m only going to explain this once, McClain.”

“I don’t like your plan either.” Lance informed him.

“I haven’t started it yet.”

“You didn’t let me finish mine.”

“Did you have anything useful to add, McClain?”

“Who knows? Maybe I did. You’ll never know now, because you interrupted me.” Lance stared at him. Keith sighed.

“He had nothing more to add, really, other than get the babes. Continue please, Sir.” Keith stopped the fight.

“The most important detail, if you ask me.”

“I’m sending you directly to the Elves.” Iverson returned to his train of thought. “Du Weldenvarden is due west of here. You will pass directly through the mountains, cross the Anora River, straight into the trees. The Elves will notice you, and get you where you need to know from there.”

“But-” Keith rolled his eyes when Iverson turned to glare at him. “It’s the middle of winter. The passes are closed. It’s also leagues from here. We’re going to need tack, horses. Blue only hatched back when the traders left, at the longest. They’re not really big enough to get very far with Lance, never mind the both of us.”

“You’re planning on going with him.” It wasn’t a question, but Keith answered anyways with a nod.

“He can use a bow, but if it comes to a sword fight...”

“The idea is to completely avoid that sort of thing.”

“Would it be better to have a sword at his hip, and not need it, or not when he does?” Keith shrugged.

“You’re going. And...” He considered the mountains. “And if it’s closed, nothing too dangerous can get in. Zarkon himself could, but he could get into pretty much anything, if he was determined.”

“So, plan?” Lance prompted.

“Go home. Ready a pack – light, as it will be a long journey, but well, as it will be a hard one – and wait on an order. When I send for you, you will stop here for this map – I don’t trust you not to loose it – and then you will flee. It could come at any part of the day, be it noon or midnight. Straight west, into Du Weldenvarden. Understand?”

“No, you should go over that again.” Lance snapped. He’d never seen such a half-baked plan, and he lived with Keith. Iverson glared at him for a long minute, then nodded.

“Now get out of my house. Don’t tell another soul. If you’ve already told anyone, make them swear to secrecy.” He instructed, pointing out the door.


	8. So Begins a Journey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They walk

Mortimer came back from the woods very late that night, looking ashen. He didn't speak most of the night, putting his worried expression down to a bad fall. Lance was properly confused when his father pulled him aside the next morning.

"Papa? You okay?" He asked gently. Mortimer chewed his cheek thoughtfully.

"I went out yesterday. While you boys were out." He started. "Blue is a very... Fitting name."

"... You saw them? Wait, you were eavesdropping on us?"

"Lance... Don't let yourself be fooled. You have a voice made to carry across acres. Because of that, when you kick Keith awake to discuss running away in the middle of the night, it's hard not to hear." He stopped, as his eldest daughters passed the barn, laughing. He continued when their voices faded.

"What are you planning, Son?"

"I-" Lance remembered Iverson's warning. The less they knew the better. "I want to tell you, Papa. But I've been told not to. Someone might come hurt you to find out what I told you."

"Are you in danger? Has Iverson concocted a plan to get you out?"

"I might be. But we have to wait until the pass opens, or Blue gets bigger. I don't think she could carry me yet." He stopped. "How did you guess-"

"It was him or the Holts. And the Holts are still on the King's payroll, for all they've more or less retired to bar-keeping." Mortimer paused. "All of us in this valley, we're all craftsmen. Farmers. People with skill and appreciation for quiet, son. But very few of us were born in the valley. Your mother was, but I wasn't. Your brothers-in-laws weren't. Keith wasn't."

"Who were you before?" Lance asked softly.

"I wasn't going to tell you until you were a man proper. But if you may not... Might not be here. For that." Mortimer sighed heavily. "I can't- you're almost a man, Lance-" Lance found tears wetting his eyes, as his father was overcome with emotion, and hugged him tightly.

He was almost an adult.

Apparently it was way too much for Mortimer to take, but Lance felt no shame in hugging it out with his sobbing father. There was no shame in emotion.

* * *

 

"Keith." Lance was out on the road, outside the smithy. Keith rolled out of bed, and peered down at him.

"What?"

"Come down."

"I have to be up in an hour, what do you want?"

"Get down here!"

"Fine." Keith sighed, and shut the window. He was soon down in the forge with Lance, looking very forlorn about his lack of sleep.

"Okay, what?"

"Iverson wants me to come through with you at dawn. Leave a note for Mr Garrett; something about family emergency meeting or something. I'll meet you there, Gotta grab Pidge still."

"Fine." Keith sighed. He scrawled a quick note – could the Garretts read? He hoped so - and chased after Lance. He was throwing pebbles at Pidge's window, unsuccessfully rousing them.

Eventually their older brother answered, with a yawn and a tiredly risen brow. He barely reacted when a poorly timed pebble hit his cheek.

"Hi Matt, is Pidge in?"

"Pidgepodge your friends want your attention." He turned slightly.

"I am suddenly very tired goodnight all." Pidge sounded as though they had failed to try and sleep yet.

"Go hang out with your friends. They wouldn't show up before dawn for you if it wasn't important." Matt stopped them. "We'll need them back by opening, guys. There's a big lunch table reserved. Birthday I think?"

"We'll do our best!" Lance promised, then dragged them all away.

"Rude." Pidge followed easily enough. "What are we breaking into? I didn't agree to anything today."

"Something something, important, right now, something." Keith grumbled.

"Informativ- is this Iverson's house?" Pidge recognized the man waiting in the window.

"Yes." Lance hustled them inside. "Sorry I took so long, Sir."

"Yes yes, get in, close the door. Boots off." He left his post at the window.

"What are we here for General?" Pidge demanded. "I was sleeping."

"No, Kogane was sleeping. You've been awake 2 days, Holt." Iverson huffed. "McClain, where did your beast touch you first? It would've felt like ice for a moment."

"My foot."

"Sock off, show me."

"Jeez, take me to dinner first." Lance complained, but plonked down on the nearest chair to wrest his sock off. He flexed his ankle sexily, before letting Iverson touch his foot.

"Right there, on the ball of his foot." A new voice stated from the far side of the room. Lance tried to lurch away, because shadow guest?! Who intruded at this hour?

"Mm. Yes." Iverson smoothed something on that part, then gave him his foot back. Lance grabbed it, and twisted it so he could see. Just below his big toe was a silvery mark. Where had this come from?

"Shiro? Is that you?" Keith had approached the figure in the meantime. Lance looked up at the familiar name.

"Hey Keith. Still working on the swordplay scroll I left you with?"

"Iverson's kept an eye on things, yeah." Keith nodded. Shiro pushed down his riding hood, and grinned as he moved into better lighting. Pidge gasped as they saw his face, and assaulted him with a hug.

Shiro grinned, hugging the youngest Holt warmly.

“You’ve been gone like a million years-” Pidge started.

“Ha, yeah. Unfortunately a storyteller has to go find stories to tell sometimes. How’s everyone been?”

“Matt misses you. We all do, but the dork sulked practically every second since you left.” Pidge smiled.

“I’ll have to bring him a good story then.” He smiled softly. “Are you shipping us out right away?”

“McClain forgot to pack, I’m sure, and Holt at the very least still has to. So you have until noon.” Iverson stated.

“Where are we going?” Pidge asked. “Why?”

“They’ll explain after you leave.” Iverson pointed at Lance and Keith. Lance was currently looking offended at the implication he’d forgotten. He’d forgotten to bring it, but that was another thing entirely.

Shiro nodded gently. “We will.”

“Adventure?” There was a touch of excitement in their voice.

“Adventure.” Shiro nodded warmly. “C’mon, let’s get you packed, and we can meet up at the pass at noon at latest. It’s starting to clear, so we should go quickly.”

Keith slid into the Garrett’s as fast as he could. The couple were staring at his note with confused expressions. They looked up when he arrived.

“Lance came through. Needs me at the farm. I’ll be back.”

“Oh, is everything okay?” Mrs Garrett stood quickly, half following him up the stairs.

“Not sure? Lance didn’t have a lot of air.”

“Is he-?”

“Already on his way back.” Keith shrugged into his pack. “We’ll update you if there’s something to update with!” He was back out the door as fast as he could, chasing after Lance.

He arrived at the McClain’s shortly after Lance, only to see the idiot halfway back out his window. He had remembered to pack.

“Ye of little faith.” He teased, hitting the snow.

“Can you get back in? I want my sword.”

“Mama isn’t up yet. Papa knows we’re headed out for a bit.” Lance indicated the back door – it was conveniently close to Keith’s room anyways.

“You told him?”

“No he went to take care of my ‘pet’ without permission, but of course my ‘pet’ was Blue, so he couldn’t.”

“Ah.” Keith returned quickly with his sword. It was a normal looking steel sword of moderate make. Nothing compared to his dagger, but useful all the same. More useful, in some cases.

Together, they marched out into the forest behind the barn. Blue was waiting just beyond the tree line.

‘ _Morning, Mommy and Daddy._ ’ They greeted brightly.

“Ready for an adventure, sweet?” Lance asked.

‘ _More than you are._ ’ Came their teasing reply. ‘ _Over to the road?’_

“Mm, we’ll meet you there. Stay hidden until we do get there, and I tell you that you may come out.”

‘ _Wow, never thought I’d see the day when Mommy was the worrier. Is there danger, Daddy?_ ’

“Potentially.” He patted his sword. “But we have our own fangs and claws. Try not to reveal yourself.”

‘ _Okay. Meet you there then._ ’

Lance and Keith turned, and headed back down the road towards town. They never actually entered the town, instead skirting it. They made the pass just before noon, and took seats on several stumps just out of sight of the town.

Before Shiro and Pidge arrived, a pair of riders passed them, headed for the town. They paused, murmuring to one another, before the closer hailed them.

“Greetings, local boys. We hail from the Capitol, Uru’baen.” He stated. Keith found himself immediately wary of these tightly garbed folk, with eyes that glowed deep beneath their hoods. Three yellow eyes, and one red. “I am Commander Sendak. We’ve been asked to investigate the appearance of a large blue stone. Have you seen anything of that ilk?”

“No Sir.” Both of them shook their heads.

“What are a couple runts like you doing at the crest of a pass like this?” The other demanded, less politely.

“Papa got tired of our squabbling, and told us to race up here. He’ll be along shortly, sir.” Lance smiled as politely as he could. Sendak nodded.

“I apologize for Captain Prorok.”

“Of course.” Lance provided a smile. “Mind the decent, it may be too icy for your horses yet.”

They left, heading into town. Lance had to fight a giggle at the definite sound of someone careening out of control into a snowbank. It was pretty icy for humans.

Keith smoothed his hair, trying to fight the urge to fight or flee from those burning eyes. They felt wrong.

“Don’t worry, Keith, you’re not a runt.” Lance helpfully ruffled his hair. “We’ll be travelling with Pidge. Pidge is an entire inch shorter than you, at least.”

“Thanks.” He now had to smooth out his hair again. He was almost presentable by the time Shiro and Pidge rounded the corner. Shiro was wearing his hood again. Pidge was bundled up like a pillow on Shiro’s horse.

“Did they ask you two about a blue rock too?” He asked when he saw them.

“Yes Papa.” Lance grinned. The affectionate term brought colour to the older man’s face. “But yeah. Said we’d never seen a blue rock.”

Shiro nodded distractedly. “We should head further down the trail before we fully regroup.”

“Who else is coming?” Pidge asked, wrestling out of their scarf.

“We’ll introduce them when we meet them.” Lance assured. “Hopefully they’re busy in town for a few days. That Prorok guy seemed like a real treat.”

“Prorok?” Shiro’s voice pitched oddly at the name. “Yes, let’s go.”

“And his buddy was Sendak, so.” Lance hopped to his feet, and started down the pass. It was very deeply snowed yet, barely clear enough to allow even the most intent passerby. But they were going. Even if Shiro’s horse had to carve a fresh path beforehand. The wind was already closing the trail left by Zarkon’s men. Hopefully it would erase theirs long before the two realized, if they realized.

Lance went quiet after a while, following only because their trail was the only path. Keith found himself worrying as they descended into the slightly more sheltered forests at the base of the pass. Lance didn’t notice when his sleeve was grasped.

‘ _Why do I have to keep hidden, I am a fucking glory! I am a Rarity! Your friends need to Behold Me!’_

‘ _Because you’re so beautiful, others might want to hurt me so they can steal you. It’s for my protection more than yours.’_

‘ _If I was with you, I could rend them in half before they even thought about it. But if you insist. But I expect grandeur when I do arrive. I better be fucking appreciated._ ’

“You beautiful, vain Diva.” Lance murmured to himself, warm and affectionate.

“What was that?” Shiro asked, turning back.

“Nothing.” Lance lurched back into reality. Blue was laughing at him. Keith was practically holding his hand, keeping him on track and with the rest of the group. Pidge was still a pillow.

“Focus, Lance, you’ve tried to wander off-path like 4 times.” Keith grumbled, releasing his sleeve.

“I wander off your path.”

“You have been.” Keith snorted.

“Fine then, I’ll path off your wander.” He picked up the pace, and took the lead.

They walked until nightfall, and stopped to make camp under an ancient watchtower. Pidge had been very patient. But said patience was running thin.

“Explain.” They demanded as the fire was lit.

“Well.” Shiro smiled at Lance. “Would you care to start?”

“Oh, yeah, sure. Blue!” He called for them both physically and mentally. He was met with a happy rumble.

“Blue? What kind of name is – holy shit that is a dragon-!” Pidge scrambled backwards as they landed behind Lance. He was smirking up a storm, as Blue arched up proudly. A brilliant glory in the moon and firelight.

“Blue is a very accurate name.” Shiro grinned. “You’re very beautiful, young one.”

‘ _Correct. You may live after witnessing me._ ’ They turned their attention to Pidge. ‘ _You show appropriate fear before a hunter such as myself. You may also live._ ’

“Aw, c’mon Blue.” Lance chided. “Threatening bodily harm isn’t a good way to make friends.”

‘ _I’m just stating facts. I am beautiful, and I am also terrifying._ ’They stretched in languid fashion before laying down with excessive flexing and arching.

“Kinda full of themself, aren’t they?” Pidge commented mildly.

“Not as much as Lance is.” Keith had no issue replying. Both of them looked scandalized.

Shiro just rolled his eyes. “So, anyways. Katie-”

“Pidge.”

“Yes, right, sorry. Pidge. We’re headed out to get Lance the hell out of Alagaësia. Iverson believes that you have skills that could help us get there.”

“... Why would he think that?”

“I’d guess you’d have a better idea than I do.” Shiro admitted. “He was just, Take Holt! Get the hell outta my house!” The easy way he mimicked Iverson brought smiles to all their lips. “He’s a good guy, but there are days where he could stand to learn a thing or two about hosting.”

“Y’know, as much as I appreciate the company, I wish he’d also have a little more faith in me.” Lance stared up the mountain. “I can’t imagine it would take a whole squad to get one guy and his baby dragon across the Anora River into the woods on the far side.”

“Mm, well,” Shiro drew the map out of his pack. “There’s been a slight change of plans now that he’s not here to command the whole operation.” He spread it out gently across his knees.

“Oh?” Keith wiggled closer to the map.

“Yes. We’re going to follow the Anora south until it turns north again. Then we’ll leave it to follow the Ninor south. When the Ninor comes to a head, we’ll turn and pass through the Spine to hit Teirm. We’ve used our last bird for that locale, so we have to send a message physically. From there, we’re headed south, into Surda, then into the Boar Mountains.” He traced his finger over the parchment, following the path he intended.

“The elves are in the mountains?” Lance asked.

“Nah. We’re going to the Varden first.” Shiro smiled lightly.

“The Varden?!” The three children demanded, all sitting up in rapt attention. Shiro chuckled.

“Alright, story time, since that’s something I’m good at.” He settled on his log, scratching his jaw. “Alright, so... what was it? 8 or 9 years, I would’ve just been turning 16 that year. There was a massive break-in at King Zarkon’s castle in Uru'baen. You may have been too young to feel the effects of it, but he was very peeved. Very. Peeved. Boy howdy was he just so gosh darn steamed about it.”

“Yes, he was fucking pissed, we get it.” Pidge urged him forward.

“Mind your language, Pidge. Anyways, yes. Taxes went up that year, as well as a good mess of conscription. Bulking out his army and guard, so that it couldn’t happen again. But what was stolen, you ask? Well, this lovely.” He indicated Blue, who puffed up.

“But more than just Blue. Three eggs. One green, one yellow, and one blue all went missing from the royal hatchery. There was a fourth there, a red, but there were only three thieves. And, as you may have found, the average dragon egg is not a light thing.” He paused as the children absorbed his information.

“They were forced to take the three, and to leave the one for a later theft. But in a last minute attempt to get the eggs back, Zarkon’s pet generals, Prorok and Sendak, descended on them, and they were forced to scatter.

“All of them escaped, as we never saw notice of the blue egg returned. The yellow and green were hidden away, in places Zarkon would never search. But we never actually found the blue egg, nor the one who carried it. Which is why we’re dragging you down to the Varden before we head north again to Du Weldenvarden.” Shiro concluded.

“Nice.” Lance grinned weakly.

Shiro nodded. “There are a lot of people who are going to be very glad they’re okay.”

‘ _Feel free to lavish me in attention._ ’ Blue permitted. The words earned more laughter from the group, as Lance stood to provide scratches in all the itchy places he could reach.

They started out again shortly after dawn, having slept in shifts through the night. Shiro took the last one, and roused them all the moment the sky started to lighten. They were moving again long before the sun crept over the peaks of the Spine.

Keith found himself at Shiro’s elbow, a question on his lips.

They’d walked for over an hour, when Shiro finally broke.

“Just ask already, Keith.”

“Why did their eyes glow?” he asked. Shiro’s brows furrowed in confusion. “Sendak, and Prorok. When they passed into town, I could see their eyes glowing under their hoods.”

“Oh! Oh. That’s because they aren’t human.” Shiro answered. “Zarkon takes only the greatest and bravest and strongest into his personal circle.”

“What are they, then? And the way the Traders talk, Zarkon only uses Human warriors.”

“Well, he mostly does. To the public, they all are. But, when he wants things done, when he needs them done, he sends his best dogs. There’s four or five of them. His Shades, Haggar and Lotor, his Galrans, Sendak and Prorok. His Champion. No one knows who or what they are, though. No one’s seen them in years.”

“Oh. What are Galrans? Are they like Urgals?”

“You probably know them by their ‘street’ name. Were-cats. Big, purple. Usually feline, but there’s some variation. Galra aren’t common this far north. They don’t,” He made a meshing motion with his hands, “Get along? With the Urgals?”

“What does it mean if Urgals are headed south, then?”

“Fuck if I know. I’m a storyteller, not a fact book.” Shiro shrugged. Then froze as Pidge giggled from his horse. “If you tell your mother I swore in front of you, I will, I- it will be messy and violent.”

“I fucking swear to fucking god you fucking fucker.”

“I am so dead.” Shiro sighed. He sighed further when Pidge just laughed at him. He really was.

His group proceeded to laugh at him the rest of the way to Therinsford. They were stopped at the bridge by a rather portly man, who reeked of ale.

“Now you stop there, you lot! This be my bridge, and if you’re wanting to cross it, it’ll be a crown for each of ya!” He snapped, brandishing a dagger. Keith reached for his sword, only for Shiro to stop him with a gentle hand.

“Good day, bridge keeper. So 4 crowns this time?”

“And fast-like, or I’ll just rend ya and take all yer goods for myself.”

“No need for that, no need for that.” Shiro smiled, opening his pack. “Just a second of your time, I believe my coin purse has sunk to the bottom in travelling.”

The man seemed to accept that. He was given another smile, as Shiro opened his purse. He turned over the gold. And they were allowed to pass. Pidge stumbled over their boot toe, and soon caught up again. When had they dismounted from the horse? Oh well, they’d stay with them even so.

The town of Therinsford was busier than Carvahall ever was, even on a quiet winter day. Shiro was greeted by friendlier drunks huddled outside the tavern – he’d spent some time here too.

“More stories yet, Shiro?” one of the more lucid ones asked.

“No, but then I just dipped into Carvahall a day. I taught Carvahall all the good stories they know.”

“Aw, shucks. Well, when you do, we’ll be waiting here!”

“Of course! Though, I forget, I need a couple more horses for my charges. Is the barn still on the far corner?”

“She hasn’t burnt down yet!” Came the laughing reply. “The new smith’s tried, but she yet stands!”

“Thanks Peterson! Say hi to the wife for me!” Shiro was content then to lead them down through the town. At the far end, face to face, a barn and a forge argued for space next to the gate. Smoke billowed, and sparks flew, and deep inside the barn, horses could be heard sounding their distress.

Lance, shockingly quiet until this point, brightened abruptly.

“HUNK!” He cried, racing forward for the forge. Shiro cocked a brow, confused, but then came upon his own realization.

There was a startled noise, and the clamour of the smithy died down slightly. Pidge used their distraction to shove not one, but several coin purses into Shiro’s pack.

When Keith cocked at brow at them, they just shrugged. Lost things made their ways into their hands, easy as pie. It was a gift.

Hunk was just as happy to see Lance as Lance was to see him. Lance was in the middle of chiding him for not keeping the soot of the forge out of his pores. Hunk was busy questioning why he was all the way out here, the pass couldn’t possibly have opened yet? All the while they hugged, glad to be side by side again.

“Hunk?” The head smith looked so like Mr Garrett that Keith was almost certain that this was a brother. “Do you need the rest of the day off to visit?”

“I may, Uncle, if I could?” Keith slotted that away as a success.

“Finally. Go have a day off.”

“Don’t touch those chains.”

“Yes, Boss.” Uncle Garrett teased, before heading back to work.

Shiro had left Keith and Pidge with the horse, to talk with the stable owner. Four horses might be a little much for his ‘current’ level of gold. Pidge’s additions were still unknown to him.

“Whoa, did you uproot the whole town to come see me?” Hunk asked.

“Nah, just us main four kids.” Lance grinned. “We’re going on an adventure. You should come.”

“Adventure? Lance, I have work.” He indicated the entire forge.

“C’mon! Blue and I got an entire world to explore!”

“Blue?”

“Rock Jr’s new name.”

“Ah. Keith, you’re the rational one. Why are we going on an adventure with a rock?” He tightened his headband subconsciously.

“Because rocks are cool.” He stated. “But no. Lance is Lance, and found shit to get into when there was none. So now we’re all headed out to correct it, and get him cleaned up.”

“I-” Hunk frowned. “Mm.”

“Wow, not cool, Keith. That is like, only 40% true there. You offered to come.”

“I didn’t!” Pidge stated. “But here we are.”

“Wow, you guys are all jerks.” Lance protested. He sniffled, only for a large hand to squeeze his shoulder. Hunk had his back.

“Ease off, guys.” Hunk chided gently. “You can tell me about it in a bit, Lance. Who’s horse is this?”

“Shiro’s.” Lance chirped, already cheered.

“You guys are travelling with him? That is so cool.” Hunk grinned. “Where’d he go?”

“Horses. We’re... going pretty far.” Lance stated.

“From Jean? Really?” Hunk peered into the barn, and got flipped off. Apparently there was more than a little animosity between the two close quartered businesses. “The Kirsteins are a good bunch, but Jean will charge triple if he finds out you’re anywhere near us Garretts.”

“That won’t pose a problem.” Pidge smirked. Hunk cocked a brow, concerned. “Don’t worry, big guy.” They laughed at his expression. “I didn’t do anything naughty~!”

“Somehow I trust that even less.”

“Mm, this kid seems like a troublesome one.” Uncle Garrett commented, and pressed a packed bag into Hunk’s arms. “You should follow them, make sure they don’t get into any further trouble.

“But Uncle, I just got here!”

“And I’ve already trained you to the best of my ability. Looks like there’s more road-walking in your future. Don’t worry, I’ll tell your father you’re in safe hands. Shiro’s good people.”

“I- Alright Uncle.” Hunk couldn’t really protest, though he could feel his nervous stomach twisting at the idea of going too far abroad without family. “I’ll restart my journey, then.”

“Good luck, child,” His uncle murmured warmly. “You are going to do great things. But not here, in this backwater valley.”

“I’ll do my best to make you and Pops proud.”

“I know you will.”


	9. Intimidation +3

Sam Holt stood up straight when the door of his tavern was kicked open. His scold fell from his lips as two massive, cloaked men entered. Their burning eyes drilled into him, draining any remaining fight he had.

“How may I help you gentlemen?” He asked, as pleasantly as he could manage through fear.

“Captain Holt,” The taller greeted him, pushing back his hood in the much darker building.

“Commander Sendak, I apologize!” He was at attention in a second. “I didn’t recognize you, Sir!”

The purple-furred man just scowled, baring teeth meant for one food and one food alone. Meat. His yellow eye was no less intimidating without the dark hood. The other was covered in a red lens. A scar ran through it, providing the cause.

“How- how can I be of service?”

“Your last report.” Sendak growled. “It said there was nothing out of usual in this part of the spine.”

“I haven’t noticed anything abnormal or unusual, Sir!” Sam held his position. “Traders were late, but they said it was just travel issues; that particular detail will be in the next report, Sir. Other than that, Harvest was good, Hunting is decent. Children born, but no deaths in the last weeks-” He stopped at a growl from Sendak’s companion.

“There is a rumour coming off those filthy traders that one of His Imperial Majesty’s dragon eggs appeared up here.” Sendak snapped. “Large, blue. Not something that could escape someone who was watching for mischief.”

“I-” Sam considered. “No, I didn’t see anything matching that sir. I apologize, Sir, I must have been preoccupied with the extra bodies in town.”

“I suppose you’re loosing your edge, then, Captain? Is it time to retire you to a calmer part of the world?” Sendak took an intimidating step forward, looming over counter and man. “Perhaps, the final retirement is the step we need to take with you?”

“No, no no, that’s not necessary-” Sam could hear the fright in his voice, and it was terrible. He didn’t have a chance to plead for his life further, as the door to the tavern opened wide, and admitted his table of McClains. Cousins and siblings up to see the sister that held the family homestead, families in tow. The pass wasn’t even open yet.

Sendak growled lowly, pulling his hood back up against the bright outside.

“Sam, darling! Sorry we’re a little late!” Lluvia greeted. “We got distracted talking lace again!”

“N-no, it’s fine! I’ll just let Norma know-” He was being glared at from under the heavy hoods. He was going to have to take this outside. His wife was waiting, concerned at the angry voices, but expecting the chatty McClains.

“Is everything okay?” She asked softly, trying to peer around his shoulders to see their unexpected guests.

“Everything’s fine,” He assured gently. “Get Matt and Katie to help you with Lluvia’s lot, I have to go talk with my bosses for a few minutes. Um, did you see anything like a big blue rock when the traders were through?”

“Mm, no,” She hummed, chewing a nail briefly. “Oh, I didn’t see it, but Lance was going on about not getting to say goodbye to a Rock Jr? Everyone knows how he likes blue things, so maybe he was being goofy about a blue rock? I just assumed it was a cat or something.”

“Mm, maybe. Something to go off of.” His son appeared, and passed out into the tavern, bearing tea for the expected table. He was welcomed warmly and loudly by the gaggle of women and children. Norma followed closely, a pair of baskets filled to the brim with warm, current-studded buns.

Sendak had taken over a table in the farthest, darkest corner from the door. He seemed irritated at the noise off the other table, but made no comment. Norma was preparing some extra tea for their extra guests, ensuring they were as comfortable as possible. Matt was busy, flitting between the McClains with ease of practice, enduring and escaping cheek pinches as appropriate.

“So I jogged my memory a little,” he stood beside his very large boss, “And there may have been some whisper. One of the sillier older boys was going on about something that might be what you’re looking for.” He kept his voice so that he could be heard, but not by the crowded table.

“Go on.” Sendak matched his tone, keeping his hood up.

“Now I didn’t see it, specifically. So this may be a false lead, but.” Sam continued, as though his life wasn’t forfeit if his answer was deemed unacceptable. “There’s this boy, Lance, he’s a little bit of a goofball. Particularly fond of things with the same shade as our missing item. He was particularly heartbroken over not getting to say goodbye to a, um. Rock Jr? He’s the sort of boy to try and adopt a big, shiny rock-type thing.”

“Lance.” Sendak considered. “His family name?”

“Lance McClain, son of Mortimer. The family’s big, you may have to be specific.”

“I’m aware of the progenerative rate of the McClain clan. Where can I find them?”

“His mother’s one of this group. I may be able to interrupt their yearly breakfast? But you may have to wait until the meal is over. Stubborn bunch.”

“Inform the McClain woman, we shall wait. Bring something not mutton or goat. I’m not listening to Prorok complain again.”

“Yes Sir. Right away sir.”

He didn’t get to approach Lluvia for another 20 minutes. His bosses had their beef so raw it bled onto their plates, and without fruit, tuber or vegetable to soak up the run-off. But once he did manage to lean in and get word to her, she was happy to pull away from her group just long enough for a quick word.

Matt whisked away their oddly clean plates, and left refilled tankards of water, just as Lluvia took a seat across from the hooded commanders.

“How can I be of help, dears?” She smiled.

“We’re looking for a large blue rock. It is property of His Imperial Majesty, King Zarkon, and he would dearly like it returned. Rumour has it that it came into your possession, or perhaps the possession of one of yours?” Sendak was polite with this woman, at least.

“Oh, yes, Rock Jr. My son, Keith, found it in the Spine just before winter set in. Said it was hidden up some desolate deer trail or something of that ilk.” She nodded pleasantly. “Unfortunately the boys are on a mid-winter hunt – they may not be back for a few days, and I’m not sure where he stashed it in the meantime. Didn’t want to loose it before he could try and sell it, you know?”

“We will have to question Keith, I’m afraid. The rock was stolen, so it is important that we follow up that he knows nothing.”

“Of course, of course. I’ll send him in to question, likely with his brother, Lance. And of course the property. I apologize in advance if they’re a little upset, those boys had their eyes on some adventure once they had gold in their hands. They won’t give you trouble, though.”

“Thank you for your cooperation, Mrs McClain, you’ve been of much help.” Sendak let her return to her group in peace. “You didn’t mention a Keith.” His tone darkened and lowered immediately.

“I wasn’t aware he was involved. The boy’s a quiet one. The opposite of his brother, really.”

“You can still expect demotion.” Sendak finished his water, and set the tankard aside. “We require housing for the day.”

“Of- of course. This way.” Sam led them to the few rooms reserved for those unable to return home overnight. He wasn’t an innkeeper by any stretch, but there wasn’t better in this little town.

* * *

 

Lluvia returned home several hours later. The extended family was set up throughout the varying homesteads, making use of the varying empty rooms. She’d had her suspicions earlier – who went hunting at this very storm-riddled time of the year? - but the arrival of these officials sealed the deal. Her husband was out in the barn, organizing for a lack of other things to do.

“Mortimer.”

“Yes my Love-Lluvia?” He replied sweetly. “Are your sisters all settled in?”

“Yes, of course. Where are the boys?”

“Out hunting, I did tell you that earlier, didn’t I?” He answered.

“You did.” She stared up at him, mouth set in a firm line. “But the longer this day goes on the less I believe it.”

“Why, did they just screw off to town or something instead? They are almost men. Boys have to have some sort of cover for their last minute fun.” He pulled himself up onto a hay bale to check for rodents on the higher levels of goods.

“No, worse.” She pouted at him. “The King himself has men out here looking for them, and their damned rock.”

“The King’s Men? Really? Are they just as tall and intimidating as I recall?”

“Taller. Make you look like a short, squat beetle, like me. Where are our boys?”

“You’re not a beetle, love. You’re a butterfly, if I must choose an insect. But far cuter than that.”

“Mortimer. Where are our boys?”

“I do not know. Lance said hunting.”

“And Keith?”

“Just took his sword, nodded politely on the way out.”

“Why was Keith here? He’s supposed to be with the Garretts.”

Mortimer shrugged, uncertain, but well out of her reach. She stared up at him, expression stern but adorable. They faced off in such a manner for a long few minutes, before she relented.

“Fine. Do you know where the rock went?”

“Oh, that I can answer. It broke. Lance put the pieces in Keith’s room. Little leather sack, beside that perfectly coiled root Keith kept.”

“It broke? How did Lance manage that?!”

“He’s not sure. He woke up, and it was in pieces. He has it down to one of the twins, or the dog.”

“Mm.” She frowned, but accepted that. She huffed, but retreated to the house. Mortimer watched her go. It sure was a good thing ‘going hunting for dragons’ was Lance’s code-word. It meant he was going. He would be back when he could be. No matter what was asked, he could still just answer Hunting. That was what Lance had said, after all.

* * *

 

“Hello Sam, are those guardsmen still here?” Lluvia asked. She looked exhausted, but anyone would on their third trip between the town and the McClain farm.

“They’re Commanders, but yes, Commander Sendak and Commander Prorok are still here. They’re just taking their evening meal. I’ll let them know you’re here once they’re done.”

“Thank you dear.”

Sendak came down as soon as he was informed. He would have looked perturbed that the woman had come alone, if she could see his face.

“Is something the matter?” He asked.

“Well, once I got home, I went fishing around my boys’ things. They’’re not exceptionally good at hiding things. The good news is I did find the rock.”

“And the bad news?”

“It seems to have broken in the meantime. I brought as many pieces as I could find.” She offered the sack of them. Sendak faltered, then took the bag. He inspected the pieces critically. Lluvia waited only a little nervously. “I hope it’s not too much of an issue?”

“More important was the contents of the rock. Was there anything... out of ordinary with the pieces?”

“No. They were just tucked in the bag as is, and nothing else about.” She twiddled her thumbs, nerves beginning to show.

“It is imperative that we speak to your sons as soon as possible, then. Have you a way to call them back should they be needed?”

“No. I’m sorry.”

“We will wait, then.”


	10. Rock Beats Two Swords Tied Together, Right?

Shiro was used to riding. He had been for years. The four children he rode with were entirely different.

“Why are they so bouncy?” Hunk complained for the nth time. Lance was wincing every time the horse under him bounced, as though his thighs were starting to sore already. Keith just looked unhappy, while Pidge slept. Apparently someone had been awake almost a week.

Keith was at least kind enough to keep them on their horse, and their horse on track.

“You just have to get used to the gait. Each horse has their own. Try and feel for it.” Shiro offered gently, for the nth time. His old mare was a steady beast, and smooth over even the roughest terrain.

Their terrain was hardly rough. It was smooth going, sometimes too smooth. They had more issues with ice than stone. The worst part of the entire trip was Blue’s constant whining. They wanted to show off, to be admired, not hide during the daylight, and catch up once they’d stopped for the night. Blue had wheedled a connection deep into each of their minds, and it took all their will-power to block out their offended squawking.

Hunk had been ecstatic to meet them the first night after they left Therinsford. A dragon, a real life, living dragon, and Lance was their rider. He’d read the books. He knew the stories. Blue had been so happy for the fresh eyes to affectionate their glorious form.

Now he didn’t care – he just wanted the bouncing to end. They all kind of did. Walking was a much easier task on their thighs.

But horses were faster. Shiro kept them on track. He placated their dragon companion with hummed songs and brilliant ballads whenever asked. Drinking songs seemed to be a lot that they enjoyed, and sometimes the six of them were all muttering the same song under their breath.

“This is Utgard, the location of the Riders’ final stand against the Forsworn. Here it was that, um, hm. I forget their names. But this is important. Basically, one and their dragon against many and their dragons. I’ll look that up again later. Someone remind me.” Shiro introduced a massive, crumbling watch-tower as they passed below it.

“Best story-teller ever,” Lance teased.

“Fine, I won’t tell you the forgotten six words.” Shiro huffed. He had information far more important than tour-guiding to recall.

“What, no, I want the forgotten words!” Lance took back his teasing. But it was too late.

Shiro stopped them all at the very southern-most tip of the Anora River the next day.

“Lance, can you call Blue out?” He asked. The sun was setting, and the land about them was deserted for as far as they could see. The plains before them were so much smoother than Lance, or any of the others, had ever seen. The lack of mountains or trees was almost disturbing to see.

“Sure.” By the time the sun was gone, and their fire was lit, Blue had rejoined them. Pouting, but they were there.

 _I don’t want to hide anymore! I’ve got people to impress!_ Came the usual complaint.

“Yes, I know love.” Lance patted her nose affectionately, and nearly lost a hand for it. They were upset, dammit, don’t mollify this! “Blue, come on.”

_No! I want to fly freely! And with you!_

“I don’t know that you’re big enough yet, Blue? You’re only a few moons old now?” Standing next to their shoulder, the highest part was only up to his crotch. If he straddled them, he’d probably still be able to touch the ground.

Shiro sighed softly, and abandoned the fire-making to Hunk and Keith. “Come here, Lance, Blue, let’s see.”

“They’re not that big, though!” Lance did not want to hurt them, bottom line.

 _I’m plenty big enough!_ Blue snapped in return. But they approached Shiro fluidly. Shiro offered an arm of support, helping Lance into the spike-less spot between neck and back. Lance was very close to being right. Another inch or so less, and there would be no way Blue would be taking off with this boy. Even if he was a gangly teen still.

“Mm.” Shiro stroked their neck gently as Lance grasped for a handhold on their smooth back. The moment they tried to take to the air, Lance fell off with a doof. Keith and Pidge couldn’t help but giggle, as Hunk rushed to make sure Lance was okay. Shiro stood over him, smiling knowingly.

“What did we learn?”

_Someone get me some rope._

“No, Lance, what did we learn?”

“... Someone get them some rope.” Lance concurred... or maybe concussed.

Shiro sighed. “No. We have to get you a saddle, Blue. He’ll hurt himself, or at least fall off if you don’t have one.”

The dragon whined at him. Lance sat up slowly, rubbing his skull. “What does it take to make one?” He asked.

“I’d need... at least two full, hairless hides. Tanned ones, don’t just go run and bring me a deer, Blue. It will have to wait on Yazuac, at least.”

“I brought a spare hide.” Keith offered. “I’ve just been using it as a second layer between my sleeping roll and the ground. I’m pretty sure Lance also brought one of my hides.”

“You tan better than I do. Probably just traded your ability to tan for an ability to tan, if you ask me.” Lance stuck out his tongue, but fished the rolled hide out of his pack. It was mildly damp from the previous night’s snow, but otherwise in good condition. Keith’s was dry, somehow.

“So you admit I’m better than you.” Keith snapped up the bait.

“Yeah, at being pasty as flour for the rest of your life.”

“Says the boy who manages to turn beet red in fourteen seconds despite his treasured golden hue.”

“I’m sorry I blush so easily when in the sun’s tender embrace~!” Lance retorted.

“Guys.” Shiro was again breaking them up. “Give me the hides. And pay attention.” He pulled out a knife, and a stick of charcoal. The four children watched as he traced a shape out of the one hide, and set into cutting the shapes free. The rest of the hide was convirted into cords, laces and straps.

Eventually he had a rather crude-looking soft saddle. “There are two kinds of dragon saddle – this one, for fast flight, and limited resources, and a stiff, shaped one not unlike a horse saddle. That one’s more comfortable, but it takes months and tools we don’t have to make. C’mere Blue.” Shiro beckoned them.

They stood still as he set the saddle on their back, and strapped it down. He made them go through the full range of motion, testing the tightness and firmness of the rigging. Only when it had passed them was Lance allowed to clamber onto Blue again.

The stirrups were more just straps that tightened around Lance’s feet and ankles. There were a pair of straps for his hands as well.

“The last thing you want to do is fall off at 1000 feet up.” Shiro explained when he met Lance’s questioning stare.

“But my hands?”

“Being thrown around like a rag-doll is scientifically proven to be bad for your health.”

“... Good point.” Lance tested the firmness of the straps by bouncing lightly. Blue took that as an encouragement, taking off into the night sky.

“Don’t go too far or too long!” Shiro called after them. He wasn’t sure if he was heard. Blue tore into the clouds, wings beating the air in perfect rhythm.

Lance squinted against the cool air hitting his face. It was amazing. High above, the stars twinkled clearly as they broke through the clouds, and rose above them. He could see the moon, bright and crescent.

The cold wasn’t unexpected. He rather enjoyed it, as the wind pushed through his clothes, and whipped his hair about. He could hear Blue laughing as they twisted and dove together for the first time. Both massive bodily chuffs, as well as the bright peals of their mental voice.

Eventually, though, they had to land. Their wings were getting sore, from the new weight, and Lance was getting cold enough to prompt concern. They pulled into a landing next to their fire, laughter still resonating between them.

“How was it?” Shiro called, as Lance untangled his feet from the straps. “Did you enjoy it?”

“That was fantastic-!” Lance shrilled, swaying on his feet slightly. Blue chuckled, and steadied him with their head. “You are nothing like riding a horse, I was all wrong.”

 _Of course I’m not, I’m a dragon._ Came the sassing reply.

“When did you compare them to a horse?” Shiro sounded more offended than Blue did.

“I can talk without being heard by snoopy snoopers now.” Lance grinned. Pidge gasped dramatically.

“Can you do that all the time?!” They asked. “As in, never disturb the meat-o-sphere with your shrill tones again?”

“Pidge, don’t be mean.” Shiro chided.

 _Just for that, Pidgepodge, I am going to talk non-stop in your head. And just your head, no one will be able to prove anything._ Lance grinned widely at their sudden alarm.

“You missed a little.” Keith provided, as the remaining two chuckled. Lance swore, but in all fairness, it was only his first time trying that with a human.

“So if I say he’s singing in my brain later on you’ll believe me?”

“Only if you haven’t been unfairly mean,” Shiro cracked a grin. “But really, Lance, are you just fiddling with your new abilities now? Most riders are on their hatchlings before they’re anywhere near the size Blue is now. Half of them go a little mad accidentally picking up thoughts from others.”

“I seemed rude to intrude, once I realized I was feeling the brush of other’s minds.” Lance admitted gently. “And I didn’t want to hurt them. I recalled something vaguely from someone, saying you couldn’t ride a horse until they were bigger than you or so.”

“That’s fair. One of the first lessons I’m supposed to teach you on the way is respectfulness of life. You’ve got that down.” Shiro pulled a scroll out of his sleeve. “Next is...”

“Wait, I have to go back to school?” Lance whined. “I already know my runes!”

“Your human runes, sure. There’s more than one, more than one language, more than one species full of knowledge to accrue. I’m going to leave 90% of the book learning to the Elves. They’re better teachers than I am in that field.”

“Keith, you’re in charge of my homework there.”

“Ha, no.” Keith snorted, peering at the scroll Shiro held. It was not written in any language he knew.

“Lance can you use a sword at all?”

“I can fight with my fists and with my bow. That’s all I need.” He flopped back against Blue. Hunk loved him enough to put stew into his hands. He thanked him gently, wolfing down the food.

“Of course. We’ll start that tomorrow... we’ll be going directly across this plain so we won’t be too tired.” Shiro ran his fingers down the paper, considering the list.

“Must we? I mean, sword-fighting is something that I’m supposed to avoid? So said Iverson?”

“Every man, no matter how young or old, can be saved by knowing which end to grab if it comes to a fight fists can’t handle.”

“I know which end to grab.” Lance huffed.

“Then you’re that much ahead of the group.” Shiro re-rolled his scroll.

“I don’t want to learn to sword-fight,” Lance huffed. “I’d rather just throw rocks. Keith’s the swordfighter in the group. He has two blades.”

“But then you can never hope to kick my ass if I draw even one.” Keith challanged. He frowned when a pebble bounced off his cheek.

“I win.” Lance stuck out his tongue. He had several more pebbles ready to throw. Keith sighed. The other three shrieked as he moved, quickly. Lance squawked as he was pinned, a black blade against his throat.

“Care to reconsider?” He asked.

“Rock.” Lance flicked another pebble at Keith’s face. It was Keith’s turn to shriek, as he was grabbed up by Blue. Lance giggled, as Keith was removed. The other’s laughed, though Shiro shook his head.

The following morning started as early as usual. Blue was warned to move into the nearby trees, to stay hidden again, until they were deep enough into the plains to not be seen by people travelling the river. Shiro warned them to fill their water-bags, as there wouldn’t be another river for several days.

They travelled easier over the level terrain. Dusk fell, as Lance realized that Blue was almost too far to reach. They came quickly, not particularly wanting to be left behind, or out of Lance’s range.

While they waited on them, Shiro whipped out five branches, all about the size of a sword. Each of them got one, Keith included.

“Alright, Keith. Standard starting position.” Shiro took it as well, as Keith moved into position. They spent the next minutes slowly moving through the paces of a basic swordfight. Lance watched boredly. He wasn’t very impressed. He’d seen Keith do far more complex things by himself in the middle of the farm field.

Shiro cocked a brow when Lance yawned widely and loudly. “Bored, dragon-boy?”

“Hit me.” Lance hefted his stick, and held it at a moderate height. His feet weren’t in position in the least, and Keith had seen better posture from a horse.

Both diverged on him, ‘swords’ moving swiftly. Lance squeaked, flailing his stick when he realized both were after his ass, and he had no rocks to throw. He guarded against a few of the initial blows, but was soon knocked to the ground, covered in forming bruises.

Keith then turned on Pidge, and Shiro on Hunk. They fared little better. Shiro would have a couple bruises, only because Hunk was a big guy, with a smiths arms.

They were down to four sticks. Hunk promised to replace his relatively quickly. When they saw another tree. There were none within the horizon.

Blue eventually dropped down soon after Lance’s pride lifted him from the dirt.

“En Garde!” He spat, bringing his stick up again. Keith was happy to oblige, as Shiro pitted himself against Pidge. Both battles were short, but the two roused their companions again and again, until they couldn’t anymore. Then they fought each other, sticks flying as fast as both could manage, clacking as they caught one another’s blows.

Hunk whistled softly, impressed. He hadn’t realized Keith was so good. None of them really had – even Lance had only ever seen him go solo.

Eventually dinner was ready, and they let off, dropping their sticks. Keith had a bright smile on his lips for once. Lance found himself staring at the now-forgien expression.

“That was good shit.” Pidge commented. “Iverson taught you all that?”

“Shiro helped, but I never actually got to pit against him. He went to gather stories before then.” Keith accepted the bowl of stew. He had a thin scratch on one cheek, and the knuckles of his dominant hand were bruised, but he was in good condition. Shiro had a few peppered bruises on his hands, and a split knuckle where Hunk’s branch had collided with his fist. Nothing compared to hands, ribs, arms and legs worth of bruising.

“Nice.” Pidge nodded. Hunk agreed, but he still looked ashamed that he’d broken his practice sword. He’d been hopeful to learn the art of what he’d forged for so long.

“Okay, so you all did really well.” Shiro started. “For beginners, anyways. The fact that you managed to block any at all is tremendous.”

“Lance was terrible.” Keith added.

“I’ve seen worse out of hot-headed children.” Shiro ruffled Keith’s hair, much to his chargin. Lance sniggered. “But you all do have a long way to go, that is for certain. Lance, you’re very passionate, considering you wanted nothing to do with this yesterday. But you’re aiming to press forward, not hold your ground. I mean, yes, sometimes holding your ground is important, but you can’t just be blocking the entire time. Pidge, I saw you eyeing the openings, but you weren’t taking them, even if you had the time. You see a window, you take it. Just like all those gold-purses I haven’t confronted you about yet.”

Pidge sniggered, but nodded. They could do that.

“I need to confront you about that actually. Please stop robbing hard-working people.”

“Yes, Dad.” Pidge drawled, teasing. Shiro went red again, but just shook a finger sternly.

“Okay, now, Hunk. I know we were cut short, but you have something that very few people have; strength in massive amounts. I saw you holding back, trying to move quicker instead. I’ll find you a bigger stick, since it seems we’re going to have to teach you how to use your advantage, to use your strength. We can work on finesse once you’re no longer scared of breaking things.”

“But over all, good. Very good.” He beamed, like a proud father.

“Shiro...” Hunk started, but stopped.

“Shoot?” Shiro accepted his dinner, finally.

“How do you know so much about things? You’re a storyteller, aren’t you?” Hunk asked softly.

“Well, it’s storytellers that travel between towns and cities. They are masters of finding information, and of passing it on. We’re more accepted than any herald, more loved than any tutor, and less wasting of resources than a trader. It’s our job, my job, to move information from one group to the next.” Shiro grinned. “So when I try to learn things, just because I think they’re cool, no one questions it.”

“Oh.” That answer brought sniggers.

“So where all did you go, besides around?” Keith asked.

Shiro paused briefly, looking mildly confused. “I was in most of the major cities.” He finally decided. “It was a good few years, but it all kind of blurs together into one mass. I know I was in Uru’baen, but I can’t recall exactly what I did there. Probably entertained drunken soldiers and small children? Teirm was such a busy place, there’s no pulling a solid memory out of there either? Dras-Leona I only recall because I had a lovely run-in with Sendak and Prorok. Spent a lot of time avoiding them after they took too much interest in the stories I was telling in a pub.”

“Sounds like a wild ride.” Lance commented.

“It was.” Shiro nodded. “Anyways, I think it’s time we slept. Early starts, and all that. You can travel with, Blue, we won’t see a whole lot of anything or anyone while we’re crossing the plains. Let us know if I’m wrong, however, and keep hidden when you can.”

 _Yes Shiro._ Was their calm agreement. _May Lance stay with me tomorrow?_

“Sure. Just don’t over-do it. You are still rather small.”

_Of course._


	11. Snow what?

Lance woke earlier than usual, sitting up. The world around them was quiet. Not a sound was heard, not even the rustle of wind on grass. Even Hunk slept quietly, snores abated for the night.

Keith looked up from his watch, concerned.

“Everything okay?” He asked just above a whisper.

_Not sure._ Lance replied. _Does it seem too quiet to you?_

_No._ Keith thought back, considering the area around them. _Nights are quiet at this hour. The nocturnal are almost done for the night, but the daytime creatures are not yet woken. Also, there are no trees to rustle and crackle._

_I think something’s up. Blue?_

_Yes, little one?_ They were awake instantly, head rising to look around. _What worries you?_

_Is it too quiet? Something’s got me on edge, and it may just be a lack of things._

_... The breeze smells of snow._ They observed, nostrils flaring. _We may be faced with a winter storm, and soon._

_How soon?_ Keith stood slowly. _Should I wake Shiro?_

_Yes._ Blue stood, growling lowly as they stretched. That roused the rest in quick order.

“Sup?” Shiro asked, lucid almost immediately.

“Blue can smell snow, and the world’s gone quiet according to Lance.” Keith reported before Lance could.

Shiro stopped, and listened as well. “He’s right. Wind’s stopped. Come on guys, up. We need to go now.”

“S’early?” Pidge protested.

“We need to find shelter, and fast. There’s a storm coming.”

“Wakey shakey Hunk, come on.” Lance worked at Hunk while Shiro did Pidge. Their rolls were packed, and the fire outed in record time. Lance mounted Blue instead of his stocky horse, despite disapproval.

“We can look ahead.” Lance explained. “Guide you.”

“Be careful.” Shiro stated, with no small amount of worry. “If the wind starts picking up, I want you two on the ground immediately.”

They nodded together, and took off. Once they’d risen a hundred feet, they saw it – the storm head. Miles tall, and darkly ominous even in the low light, Lance knew immediately they were in for a long haul with that over them.

_So we want something for all of us, then._ Blue swung their head, searching the ground. It was very barren. _At least a stand of trees, right?_

_At least. I think we have a tarp to tie against the wind._

_Because I do not see anything. Not even a singular tree._

_Nothing?_ Lance peered over their shoulders, searching the ground wildly. As Blue had said, there was nothing but grass. Grass, and taller grass, which was starting to ripple. _Come on then, we need to get back before the wind takes us for a ride._

_Okay._ Blue turned quickly, using the rising wind to speed their return. Shiro was starting to look panicked when he finally saw their approach.

_Anything?_ Keith pressed into Lance’s consciousness the moment they locked eyes.

_Nothing._

_Then land, fast. Shiro’s muttering something about a curtain on the approach._

_Can do._ Lance grasped their saddle tightly, as Blue dropped from the sky. They just got their wings closed when an icy blast assaulted them. Blue faltered, trying to avoid flaring their wings for balance.

They failed, one ripping open in the gust, sending them careening backwards. Lance shouted, his words lost in the gale. He could feel raw terror ripping through him, and not all of it was his. Without really thinking it through, he leaned down, and grabbed the nearest wing-spoke. The thick membrane vibrated in his hands, but he held tight, and pulled. Slowly, painfully slowly, it closed between the two of them, one section of wing at a time.

He felt a little sick from their tumbling backwards, but held strong, pulling as hard as he could. Blue eventually got their wing back under control, and without the sail catching air, their balance and position steady. It was a long, slow walk into steep headwind, filled with icy flakes like daggers, but they eventually caught up with the rest. At least the horses were in no danger of flying away.

Shiro eventually called a halt – the horizon had vanished completely, and they were going to get turned around, even with the singularly focused wind. It took all their efforts to get a small lean-to up, and a fire was impossible. Blue huddled close to the humans and horses, blocking as much wind as they could.

Sitting out the storm, huddled together for warmth, but otherwise deathly silent, took forever. None of them slept. Shiro kicked awake anyone who tried, and pulled them yet closer together. Their horses seemed to agree, muscling in tightly as the day began, then grew old and dark again.

It didn’t begin to abate until well after what Lance guessed was midnight.

He looked up when he realized the wind had stopped howling. His cheek was pressed against Blue’s warm side, and over top them was a wing. Blue’s head had joined them in the warm cover of their wing, along with the horses. The tarp had either blown free, or was just over-top Blue’s wing. It was impossible to tell.

_Blue, how’s the weather out there?_ He asked, blinking tiredly. The others roused from their tired huddle as he started to move.

_Cold. But nicer also._ Their head pulled free of their warm covering, letting in a blast of fresh, if cold, air. Snow fell in through the new hole, as though it had drifted about Blue. It probably had. _The sky is not yet clear, but the active snowfall has ceased._

“Blue says the snow has mostly stopped, but it’s still cloudy out.” Lance reported, pressing his face back against their warm side.

“Good.” Shiro sighed a breath of relief. “Did we loose the tarp, Blue?”

_Many hours back. You are lucky fire lives in my belly, though I cannot spit it yet._

“We appreciate it.” He stroked her side as well, appreciating the warmth. “Did you get hurt while you were fighting the wind?”

_My right wing will be sore a day or two, but I feel fine otherwise. Lance managed to get it closed before anything too bad occurred._

“Good. I’ll look it over when the sky is light again.” He turned to the others, considering. “It should be safe to sleep, now.” he assured. “But get up and move about a little first. Get your blood moving.”

They were loath to comply, but did so. Blue chuckled as they all stood, and shook themselves out, before unrolling their sleeping rolls, and tucking in for the night.

Lance was the last to do so, standing once the others were curled up together in their rolls. He peeked outside, and was amazed by the feet of snow. Blue was only a few shades darker than it, in the deep night. Their bright yellow eyes found him after a moment.

_Sleep little one._ They crooned softly, leaning to nose him back into the shelter of their wing.

_You’ll be okay?_

_Yes. This is very nice weather for me. I enjoy this snow._

_If you’re sure... Let me know if you sense anything off?_

_Of course._ Blue’s gentle presence lulled him to sleep quickly, even faster than the anxious day.


	12. Yazuac

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (!!Content warning!!) Like Candy Mountain, only with the recently deceased!

The day began slowly for them all. It was well past dawn, but their stormy and abrupt stop had not been kind to them. They all shivered through layers and layers, as they re-saddled their horses after a good brush and feed, and repacked their packs. Shiro left his packing for last, instead focusing on checking Blue’s wing.

It was fine, if a little bruised where Lance had grabbed it, and again where the wind had pulled it open. They would heal quickly, though. Lance watched carefully, inspecting the mottled purple spots on the membrane personally. His poor Blue.

They started off as soon as they could, reorienting towards the river far to the south. The deep snow was hard on the horses, but they weren’t exactly moving fast. Shiro’s mare took the lead, most used to inclement weather. The rest of them followed sedately.

It took two more days to reach the Ninor River. They were a little off track – a bit too far west, but not ludicrously so – so it took another day yet before Yazuac appeared on the horizon.

Blue was instructed to fly to the far side of the town, and to hide along some desolate curve of the river Shiro knew people avoided. Currents, reeds and leeches lived there, taking without compassion. They got huffy about it, but complied.

Shiro didn’t mind sass, as long as the task was done. But he found himself regretting sending them away as they approached the village. For all the cold weather, no smoke rose from the varying chimneys. There was no smell of fire here. He called a pause, and started forward by himself, sword drawn. His mare seemed disturbed too. But may have just been picking up on his nerves.

Lance exchanged glances with the rest, concerned as Shiro moved out of view. Keith drew his sword as well, after a moment. His own horse seemed antsy. He followed the beast’s ears with his eyes, as the others found bows, and strung them. Lance had an arrow nocked and ready, if not taut yet.

“What do you see, Keith?” Lance asked quietly. He couldn’t see much himself. Just wooden walls, and houses just cropping over-top those protecting outer walls.

“...Not me. Bingo. He hears something, off from the direction Shiro went.”

“Does Bingo hear Shiro?” Lance reached out a hand, and rested it on the horse’s cheek. His mind was clear, but simple. He knew a few things – Human with alpha mare was friend. But something in there was predator.

Lance knew the smell of blood the horse smelt, even if the horse himself couldn’t quite place it beyond instinct. “Old blood. Rotting blood.”

Keith looked startled at the words.

“Is Shiro safe?”

“I assume he knows what he’s doing.” Lance admitted. “5 more minutes, then we can go rescue him if he hasn’t returned, or called for help.”

Keith nodded quickly, a single bob of his head. Pidge and Hunk exchanged a nervous look, but nocked arrows as well.

They all started at a sudden bang, which was quickly followed by smoke, and the acrid scent of burning flesh. The four of them charged forward as one unit.

Shiro was standing in the middle of the road. Before him stood a mountain of corpses, slowly starting to burn. He was currently flanked by two creatures crowned by ram horns of impressive size. Urgals.

One of them had his sword, and when he glanced back, there was a massive cut across the bridge of his nose. It bled freely down his face, marring the crisp-looking snow with crimson flecks.

Keith charged into the fray, raising his sword with a battle-cry. Lance drew back and loosed, killing one of the Urgals instantly with a well placed arrow. Hunk and Pidge’s arrows hit it in varying places a moment later. The other Urgal, the one with Shiro’s sword, roared furiously over the loss of it’s companion.

Shiro took their arrival as a distraction, and lunged at the massive beast.

A word fell from his lips, and one of his gloves started to glow, red-hot steel gauntlets steaming in the cold. The Urgal dropped his sword when the super-heated metal ripped out his throat.

Shiro watched it fall, before sighing, and letting his glove return to normal. He lifted his sword from the snow.

“Did these two do this?” Keith demanded. There were so many bodies, of all ages. Even children hadn’t been spared.

“They were part of it, I’m certain. Probably the rear guard of a much bigger formation. I can’t say the numbers, but it would take at least a couple dozen to take this large a village without any casualty that we can see. The storm wiped out most of the traces, though.” Shiro searched the buildings with his eyes. Most were barely fit to be called shelter anymore.

“So they may come back?” Hunk asked nervously.

“When these don’t come, they may. There’s nothing left here anyways. We should continue onward, as fast as we can.” Shiro nodded. He sheathed his his sword once he’d wiped it clean of snow. He mounted his mare in a couple long strides. “Let’s go.”

They left the town, leaving the bodies to burn. Their funeral pyre could be seen for miles, but none of them cared, heading south as fast as their horses could in the deep snow. Blue was waiting when they reached the river-bend.

_What happened? I sensed much alarm?_

_Urgals took the town we passed through. A couple of strays tried to pull a fast one on us._ Lance explained. _There may be more in the area, so we’re going to cover as much ground as we can._

 _Okay. Shall I continue with you?_ Their wings spread, disturbing the snow around them.

“No.” Shiro shook his head. “Stay here, stay hidden, Blue. If anything attacks you, kill it. But try not to be seen. Lance will call when we stop at nightfall.”

 _Yes Shiro._ Blue hunkered back down, looking concerned. _Call me if anything happens, and get him to fix his face._ They said directly to Lance.

“Wait, Shiro-!” Lance pulled ahead, stopping their progress.

“What?” Shiro demanded. He looked so much more intimidating with the blood streaked all down his face, but it was freezing to his skin, and probably causing all sorts of problems besides.

“Your face, man. We’ve got a couple leagues between us and the town. We can stop just long enough to clean you up.”

“It’ll be fine.” Shiro huffed. Hunk pulled around, taking the older man’s face in a single hand.

“The bleeding has stopped, so it wasn’t too deep. We should still get your face cleaned, though. You’ll have frostbite before long in this.”

“Fine, but no fire.” Shiro eyed the column of smoke rising behind them. “And fast.”

“Got it.” Hunk pulled a water-bag out from under his coat where he’d been keeping it melted, and dug a rag out of his pack. Shiro’s face was cleaned of blood in short order.

It was a nasty, wide cut. It would become a hefty scar. More women than usual would swoon.

“There. Clean. Cover your face, I’ll disinfect it properly later.”

“Thanks.” Shiro pulled his scarf back up, and his hood closer to his head. And then they continued.

They ended up riding through half the night, putting as much distance as they could between them and Yazuac before the horses were in need of rest.

They made a sparse camp, utilizing Blue rather than a fire. Their cold dinner of jerky and hard cheese was less than satisfying, but Shiro was insistent. Blue just hummed over his handsome face, and the new battle scar he’d won.

Hunk still disinfected it. Shiro fussed – what if they needed the salves for later – but was silently glad these children cared for him too.

Keith watched the two fight over the use and overuse of healing salves in silence. It was the first time he had seen Urgals so close up. He’d always assumed they were just big, ugly, aggressive mountain-goats. But no, they looked more like men than anything. Horned, ugly, aggressive men, but men none the less.

And if they weren’t animals, then why were they headed south?


	13. My shiny keef and me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (!! Content Warning !!) Keef/Teef being knocked the fuck out also references to previous chapter kk

They made Daret a day and a half later. Shiro made them wait at the gate again, as again there was little smoke to be seen. They didn’t wait so long to follow, weapons drawn and eyes wide. They honestly only waited long enough for Shiro’s horse to vanish around the corner.

Of course, that proved to be a mistake. Once they were all well into the town, wagons moved into view, barricading around them. The four spooked as they were surrounded, raising bows, strings pulled tight in alarm.

“Easy guys.” Shiro called, before anyone could loose. “We come peacefully, Township of Daret.”

“You don’t look so peaceful.” A man pulled out of the ranks. Bows slowly lowered and slacked, at least within their small group. The people of the town didn’t dare.

“We’re sorry. The lands are hazardous, and we were attacked in the ruins of Yazuac, just north of here.” Shiro apologized. “There was nothing left when we passed.”

“Yazuac’s gone?!” The man sounded panicked, but reined himself in as quickly as he could. “You need to leave, and now.”

“I understand. Would we be able to at least buy some bread off of you, maybe a few more blankets, and a large tarp? We lost some things in the blizzard just past.”

“As long as you leave, and quickly. We don’t have much to spare, especially if Urgals are starting to siege this far south.” Shiro nodded, and reached into his bag. Blankets and some hard loaves were pressed onto his younger counterparts, and he took the tarp personally, turning over gold. They were ushered out of Daret the same way they came, as fast as possible.

Shiro took no offense, and led them around the walls to continue southeast, towards mountains just barely visible in the clearest hours of the day.

“That was kind of rude of them.” Keith commented once the town had faded into the distance.

“Well imagine you were home in Carvahall, and you heard that Therinsford had been decimated, and you were potentially next.” Shiro soothed. “No one would be keen on outsiders in their midst, really.”

“... But you told them that Yazuac was gone, personally. They didn’t seem to know!”

“I’m sure they were aware something was up. Towns so close together often are.”

“And the river flows from Yazuac to Daret. They’d probably seen some sign of a fight, even if they didn’t know who, or where, or when.” Hunk added.

“Exactly.” Shiro nodded. “And I told them because they have the right to know. They can further fortify, or escape if they must.”

Keith frowned, but shrugged. Sure. Whatever they said.

“Shouldn’t we have had them refill our water-skins too?” Pidge asked.

“There’s enough snow right now. We’ll survive to the mountains on that, and by then there’ll be many unmarked rivers and streams we can make use of.” Shiro assured. “It’s late in the season. Enough to go around, but just barely, without counting hungry people on horseback.”

“Oh. I guess Carvahall never really had too many issues with supplies.” Pidge considered. “Even when the harvest was worse than usual, there was always surplus for the traders, and more after the winter was gone.”

“You have your father to blame for that, actually.” Shiro grinned back at them. “You know what his job is?”

“He owns a tavern, and spies on the hardworking farmers of the valley for the king?” Pidge answered. “And takes the taxes down to Gil’ead once a year?”

“Yes, that. But he also reports on the harvests and hunts, does population counts, and orders in anything that your valley may need for the winter. That’s why he’s forever with the traders for the days they’re there.”

“So that’s why Matt’s always complaining about counting.” Pidge hummed. “I thought he just spied and snooped.”

“Way to love your dad and all his hard work around the village.” Hunk teased, elbowing Pidge.

“I don’t care. He just wants me married off.” Pidge shrugged.

“He doesn’t want you married off to just anyone though~” Lance chirped. “He’s been through town twice now, looking for eligible bachelors that won’t split tiny you in half. There’s talk of Oliver, though he’s still just a baby, or Keith, since he’s little like you. Maybe that handsome Skinner boy?”

“Ew. Not interested. Sorry Keith.”

“No offense taken.” Keith snorted.

“Yeah, nothing my dad has set up will come to pass. I’ve got plans.”

“What kind of plans?” Shiro was interested, reigning in so that he could pull level with the rest. “Gasp, does tiny baby Pidge have a bad case of the Lesbians?”

“Hella.” Pidge shrugged. “Especially if it gets the dude-bros off my ass. But no, I just need to start my spy network up, and get filthy rich. Can’t do that if I can barely move with how fat I am with baby. 20 years from now, maybe. Old single spinster, actually the Royal Spy, suddenly pops out a kid. Wouldn’t that be a scandal.”

“Oh I like this plan, can we place bets? I bet you a whole deer that you’ll be head of your field by the time you’re 25.” Lance was in on this.

“Real gold only, sorry.” Pidge held out a hand. They were comfortable starting this pot now, thanks.

“2 crowns, by the time you’re 20.” Shiro passed gold.

“Oh, you have a contender Lance. Going to match that?”

“3 crowns, by the time you’re 19.” Hunk found gold too.

“1 crown, on the notion that you’re already head of the Spy network, just not official.” Keith flicked a coin at them.

“Laaance, care to partake?” Pidge rattled the fistful of coins at him mockingly.

“Nnn, fine, one crown on 25.” He added it to the pile. Pidge chuckled, and passed Keith back four crowns.

“So who wants to listen to spy dad’s book-master spew realm secrets?” Pidge teased. They dropped the remaining gold into their own pack, and pulled free a thick, leather-bound book.

Shiro blinked, then broke down laughing. “You really love playing the small innocent child card, don’t you, you little rat. You’ve almost had me fooled this whole trip!”

Pidge stuck out their tongue, repressing a giggle. “No one expects the small, quiet child to be the mastermind behind things. Did you know that Zarkon adds over 310% to the price of salted meat, and then only pays movers a crown a barrel shipped?”

“No, that’s ridiculous. A barrel of salted meat isn’t worth only 33 crowns.” Lance huffed at his lost gold.

“More like only 17 crowns. Because the packers take their half off. A cow’ll make 2+ barrels easily, if you’re not picky about the cut, what’s the cost of a cow farmer-boy?”

“10 crowns, if you buy a female calf. One cow can have up to 3 child-bearing summers before she can no longer be sold as a quality cut cow, and has to be made ground beef. The average female runs about 1900 lbs, about 900 can be made good meat. Barrel’s about 200 lbs tops.” he shot off, only to stop. “We’ve been robbed, Keith.”

“And that’s why state secrets are state secrets, give me the book Pidge.” Shiro reached over to snatch the book away. Pidge stowed it before he could take it. No, their state secrets. “C’mon Pidge, why did you even bring that?”

“Leverage.” They answered simply. “Lots, and lots of leverage.”

“Why did we not sell those calves at like twice the rate. Keith. We need to go home and tell Ma this before she sells anymore sheep at a ridiculously low price. Also she misses us, I can feel in in my bones.”

“Come on, Lance, there’ll be time for that Later.” Hunk patted his shoulder. “She’s pretty savvy. You won’t loose too much.”

“I miss her.” Lance huffed over the mane of his horse. The silver gelding eyed him, but continued walking.

_Incoming. The incoming is me. I’m coming!_ Blue was happy to distract, colliding with the ground. They spooked the nearest horses, but they were all getting fairly familiar with their antics.

“Hi Blue.” They all greeted in return. “Got bored over by the river?” Pidge asked.

_There were little horned men. They were distracted by that village that treated you badly, but they were getting close so I left._

“Did they see you?” Shiro asked.

_I don’t think so. They were distracted._ They sounded sure of themself, so he relented.

“Alright, stay close, though.” He spurred his horse forward, urging the rest to pick up the pace.

Within a day’s hurried canter, the mountains appeared properly. They loomed comfortably, as a lake gathered below them, surrounded by trees. Shiro finally called a rest, though the day was young. They’d all traveled hard, the horses especially, and a break was needed before one of them collapsed.

They were allowed to light a fire, to make camp, and for the more energetic ones, try and find something to hunt. Jerky was well and good, especially if soaked long enough, but if they wanted to have it for the days when they did not find hunting plentiful, it was a good plan to not use it all immediately.

This day was lucky. Lance roped a deer, and though it was starting to look rather scraggly for the end of season, it would feed them. Hunk could work magic over a cooking fire with nearly anything.

Blue was already back at camp when he arrived with his hunt, a deer of their own between their jaws. Shiro was in the process of begging something off of the dragon as Lance dropped his kill next to a pleased looking Hunk.

“You always manage to pick fat ones off the herd.” He commented, as he began to finish the field dressing Lance had started.

“It’s a gift.” Lance grinned. “Keith, toss me a knife. I want the hide, the ground is cold.”

“Sure.” Keith tossed his dagger over, and Lance pulled it free of the frozen earth once it had landed. Hunk claimed the meat, and Lance the hide. But they all looked confused when Shiro pulled a long femur from the pile of discarded bones, and weighed it in his hands.

“Here, Hunk, use this instead of a stick,” He passed the bone over to him. “It should hold up better.”

“Sure...” Hunk frowned at the heavy bone in his hands, but set it to the side to clean later.

Shiro didn’t make them fight until after dinner, when he distributed sticks again. Lance was up first, poked and jibed into aggression as well as defending. Keith was good at it, at least. Shiro was happy to patter around Pidge, who was happy to chase after, waving their stick wildly.

It wasn’t until Lance tripped, and was pronounced dead, that Keith turned his stick on Hunk.

“I don’t want to hurt you, Keith.” He frowned, standing with his bone. Keith snorted at the idea.

“Come on, big guy. I can take a hit.” He poked Hunk in the side with his stick. Hunk shifted his bone, then fell into position.

“I am not responsible for anything I might do to you.” Hunk frowned.

“I won’t hold it against you.” Keith promised. It was a pretty simple back and forth parry, to begin with. But as Hunk gained confidence, his swings got harder and faster. Keith could keep up with his speed easily, with plenty to spare, but he was intimidated by the strength of the blows. Anyone would be, as they danced around the fire.

Lance sat up, watching the two clash. Hunk’s bone seemed to be holding up a little better against his strength. But Keith’s stick was going to meet a sudden and nasty end if this kept up. He considered quietly, then rose slowly as they circled around to his side again.

He leapt onto Hunk’s back with a growl, the moment he was close enough. Hunk yelped as thin arms hooked around his neck. His next swing went wild, taking the end of Keith’s stick, and knocking Keith wayside.

Some wild light lit Keith’s eyes, a bright inner fire spurred by the solid strike. Shiro was the last to notice as an actual metal blade escaped it’s sheathe, and whistled through the air. Hunk was pushed into overdrive, defending with just a bone.

Bright steel whizzed too close, too often. There was shouting. Lance’s prior playfulness was lost. A solid swing cleaved into the bone, and a sharp yank took it from Hunk. Keith snarled, loosing the extra weight, and leapt at the now defenseless Hunk, sword swinging wide.

The clearing rang with the sharp peal of steel on steel. Shiro winced.

“Keith, you need to calm down.” He spoke calmly, keeping his voice level. His sword would have a notch in it. He could hear the way the others shivered as a fresh growl escaped Keith. “It’s just practice, you’re safe.”

“It hurts.” Keith snapped. His nose was bleeding, and Shiro wouldn’t be surprised if he’d lost a tooth.

“I know. But if you calm down, we can fix it.”

“Can you?” It was a challenge, not a relent. Shiro felt his weight fall away before he saw the teen’s muscles betray the intent to strike again. Shiro moved quickly in the brief opening.

Lance yelped as Keith hit the ground, having been elbowed in the face hard enough to knock him clean out. Shiro didn’t let him pass for a moment, watching Keith breathe.

“What was that?” Shiro finally asked.

“Best I can tell?” Lance pushed forward, and knelt beside Keith, checking his pulse. He was out cold, but otherwise fine. Lance rolled him onto his side, propping his head so that he couldn’t bleed into his lungs. “I think it’s just his fight or flight thingy. When he gets super aggressive like that, it’s usually because he thinks he has to fight it out?”

“He’s done that before?” Hunk needed to know.

“Once or twice. Usually Ma just picked him up and cuddled him until he felt better.” Lance pulled his lip back, and plucked out a mostly dislodged tooth. He cleaned it out with snow, and pocketed it.

“You fight me from now on, Hunk.” Shiro decided, sheathing his sword. He was not contested on that discussion.

Keith woke up with a pounding headache, but he was warm, and cuddled in several pairs of arms. He whimpered softly, but one of those arms belonged to Lance.

_You’re okay, Keith._ He soothed silently. _You really can’t take a hit, though. Apparently you go bonkers._

“Nn?” His mouth felt swollen and leaden.

_Hunk whacked you upside the head. You were trying to kill him in retaliation, but of course, we couldn’t have that, so Shiro knocked you out._ Lance simplified.

_Am I missing a tooth?_ He finally managed to form a cohesive thought.

_Yes. I stuck it in your bag. With your whetstone. You left a hell of a mark on that sword of yours. I did my best, but you’ll have to live with that chip out of the blade._

_Is my nose broken? I’ll never find a cute ~~boy~~ girl with a broken nose._

_Yes, but Hunk helped fix it before it set. It should look fine once the bruising goes down._

_Why am I layered under hundreds of people._ Keith asked finally. He wasn’t uncomfortable, but rather confused.

_I wasn’t going to let you wake up alone, or tied down. This was the next best alternative._ Lance shifted. It was more than just an arm over him. His tender face was pillowed quite comfortably against his chest. _I’m connected to your mind, please put those gay thoughts away, thanks._

_Sorry. You’re the one being a pillow though._ Keith relaxed.

_Not sorry. I’m the best pillow you’ve ever used, don’t lie._

“Shu’p. Pillows don’ talk.” He patted Lance’s chest, and went back to sleep.

Lance smiled softly, smoothing his hair. Hunk blinked blearily from the far side of Keith, gaze questioning.

_Just missed him, Hunk._

_I'll get him back later, then._

They went back to sleep.

Shiro got them up, as usual. But there was a hint of concern as he looked over Keith.

“Sorry.” Keith fumbled. “Lance explained. I din’t hurt anyone?”

“Just scared us. Is there a way to calm you down? Short of knocking you out?”

“I...” Keith grimaced, as his expression pulled his sore, bruised face. “If it’s safe, if you can get between me and my weapon, from the front, I calm down pretty fast... Especially if someone I trust holds me.” He was aware that his voice had dropped off to a bare whisper. He was pretty embarrassed.

“So send Lance to hug it out?” Shiro asked in a similarly quiet tone.

“Mm.”

“Alright.”

“But don’t be ashamed to knock me the fuck out.” He stated at a regular tone. “Sometimes kids like me just need a good thump upside the noggin to straighten out, you know?”

Shiro sighed at that, mussed his hair affectionately, and sent him to help break camp. Emergency tactics were for emergencies only.


	14. In which Coran

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have 47900/50000 words as of posting this chapter ;D

Standing over the city of Teirm, it looked so small. But they were still on the mountainside, many miles from the busy port city. People and horses looked like ants, when they could see them. Keith found himself wondering, if they fired an arrow from so high, would it make the city? Or fall short in one of the many farmers' fields surrounding the city.

Blue was loath to stay up in the mountains, so far from them. But Shiro assured them that they were going to be quick in the city. They would be back in 4 days, or Lance would be, just to let them know they were behind schedule.

Once dawn rose, they met up with one of the roads, and joined the flow of people headed into the city. No one thought twice on the group, not even the armed guards watching the gate. Their collection of travelling supplies was normal enough, and their weapons plain and used enough. Shiro pulled a scrap of paper from his robes the moment they were clear of the gates.

“Okay, so this address I have is old. I’m going to take the far port side of the city, where he used to live. Half of you to the south third, and the other half do the north. We’re looking for a Coran. If they know him, they’ll know which one you’re looking for. Meet up at the inn, The Winged Acorn, in the far south at mid-afternoon. It’s also a fairly common place, anyone you ask will point you in the right direction.”

“My face?” Keith needed to know. In a week, he still had a lovely mess of bruising. It would attract more than one question, he was sure.

“If you need a better excuse than you dozed off, and fell off your horse to impress pretty girls, you can make one up yourself.” Shiro smirked. A nearby maiden giggled at the very thought. Lance had the audacity to wink flirtatiously.

Keith rolled his eyes, and turned north. Pidge followed him with their own chorus of giggles, as Hunk and Lance turned south.

By midafternoon, the only thing they’d gotten was confused looks, and 4 more coin purses. Keith wasn’t even questioning it anymore, though he was careful to elbow Pidge if they looked contemplative too close to a posted guard.

Hunk and Lance only gained the giggles of every fair-looking maiden along the way, as well as several contemptful looks when their associated man was nearby. How dare a mere farm-boy be so openly risque?

The four arrived at the Winged Acorn with time to spare. It was a fairly average-looking place. Maybe a little shabbier than some of the homesteads they’d passed in the city, but nicer than some of the others.

Lance was frowning over the green paint. Keith felt comfortable enough to dismount, and let his horse rest for a moment.

Soon enough, the rest did the same. They waited patiently, but Shiro did not return until well after the designated time. He looked a little ruffled.

“Shiro? Everything okay?” Pidge asked. Did they need to ditch town?

“Yes, yes, I just got frisked seven or eight times.” He laughed weakly. “Apparently in the ritzier part of town, even Storytellers get their share of side-eyes.”

“Are you okay?” Hunk asked.

“Yep. You find him?” The shaking heads dulled his spirits. “Dammit. Hopefully he’s still here.”

“Does this Coran move around a lot?” Keith asked.

“Yeah. But not, oh let’s ditch town type moving. It’s more of a, I’ll move two houses down and four blocks over today, but I’ll be back on the next lunar movement!” Shiro sighed.

“Is it important we find this guy?”

“He’s important.” Shiro nodded. “We’ve got to find him, or he’ll show up, and get huffy he wasn’t included.”

“Sounds like a lovely guy.” Lance huffed. “So I’m hungry.”

“Oh, yes, right. Come on. Peg your steeds, remove their saddles and everything, except their leads. Brush them down. By then we’ll have a room, and food ready.” Pidge gasped. Real beds!

The horses were tended in record time, and they filed in. Shiro was currently surrounded by ladies begging for stories about handsome knights and charming princes. He was doing his best to turn them down, but his job called.

“Okay, okay- Just let me get my kids food, then I’m sure I can rustle up a story.” He managed to get in. When he blushed, the raw cut across his face went bright red.

“Oh, you have kids?” A younger lady seemed genuinely interested. Lance waved helpfully.

“Kids, charges, the young ones I’m directly responsible for.” He nodded, even as the women looked between him and the almost grown teens with suspicion. “Look, Peterson wants my attention, Hi Peterson, how can I help.” He used their distraction to pull away.

“Eat, by then I’ll have the storytelling barrel and some mead to ease the task ready.” The innkeeper passed over five dinner-plates. Dinner was a bright, rowdy event, especially once Shiro sat himself up on the barrel.

Those from Carvahall were familiar enough with his rendition of Sleeping Beauty, an angellic princess with starlight hair, rescued from eternal sleep by the kiss of her prince. Tricky Elven sorcerers, and kinder Elven witches, a dragon darker than night, and with a soul to match.

These Teirm Maids were enthralled. Lance found his calling in that hour. He was going to need all the stories, because dammit if he needed the ladies to swoon before him in the same manner. Hunk had to stifle a giggle when Lance informed him of his new life’s plan.

“Good luck with that.” Hunk whispered, cradling his mug of mead. He alone was allowed to have one. He let Lance sample from his tankard when the Innkeeper was distracted.

“Ye of little faith.” Lance switched their tankards when the Innkeeper vanished into the back for a moment. Hunk switched them back quickly. He was not responsible for an inerberated Lance. Keith thanked him silently – none of them would survive the second-hand embarrassment.

Lance pouted, but it was probably for the best. Blue was his biggest secret, but one that he wasn’t willing to broadcast under a drunken rampage.

The next morning, Shiro woke with a lead-tongued hangover. His kohl was smeared, and he was a glorious sight. The three children he shared a room with laughed at him, but Hunk was nice enough to offer a cup of water.

“Good morning Prince Storyteller. I never realized that you just straight up made yourself the handsome prince in the stories.” Lance leaned in the mock. “The scar across his handsome face was the giveaway. Do you know a lady with a cloud of starlight hair?”

“Yes.” Shiro tipped the tankard too far back, and soaked his face. He swore lightly as he was drenched in icy liquid.

“Nice.” Lance offered a rag to clean himself up.

“Children.” He stated weakly. “Children, please. Never drink.”

“Well, just don’t down several pints of good mead and ale.” Hunk chided.

“S’called liquid courage for a reason.” Shiro complained.

“Of course it is.” Hunk sighed.

Shiro needed an hour to find his way down to the bar again, and face some form of breakfast.

Peterson was happy to see him.

“You had a guest just before dawn. I made him shove off, but he left this for you.” He set an envelope on the bar beside a plate of eggs and ginger tea.

“Mm, thanks.” Shiro appreciated. “What do I owe you for the booze last night?”

“Nothing, so long as you’re able to draw in at least one more crowd.” Shiro nodded weakly at the smirk. Okay. He could do that. “And if you’re willing to stay the week out, I’ll waive the room too.”

That one took some thinking that Shiro couldn’t process yet. “Let me think on it.”

“Of course.” Peterson nodded warmly, and left him to it.

He couldn’t read until the last of his eggs and tea was finished. Even then, the tight scrawl was almost beyond him. Hunk peered over his shoulder, prepared to be useful, but even he couldn’t read the scrawl. If only because it wasn’t in runes Hunk was familiar with.

“You can’t read it either?” Shiro looked up with a squint.

“It’s weird and loopy. It doesn’t look like common at all.”

“Mm. Means it’s from Coran.” He sighed, and scrubbed at his eyes, further ruining his kohl. Then he hunkered down over the page, fingers following each line slowly.

“Wait, after all that looking, he found you?”

“Tends to do that. Good guy, but he’s got his methods.” Shiro sighed, and thanked Peterson when he found his tea refilled. “Let’see. Main and... Oh goodness gracious, he’s where I was looking yesterday. He’s waiting. Hunk, can you gather the others?”

“Yeah, they’re not far, just pampering their horses.” He nodded. He returned with them quickly.

“We’re going for a walk, guys. We found our guy. We’ll be back tonight, Peterson.”

“See you then, Shiro.” They were waved out. Shiro had to turn and run back in a moment – he’d forgotton his smaller shoulder-bag, with a missive and a wallet – but they were quickly on their way.

Lance frowned as they walked down a ritzy looking street, only to stop in front of an herb shop. Keith was mirroring his expression, concerned that this one building did not match the rest. Shiro led them right in, however.

The shop was empty of people, and dim. Plants hung every foot along the roof, and hundreds more rested on a mess of shelves and stools, podiums, and whatever was big enough to support a pot. And some pots fit only by balance and a stretch of the imagination.

“Hello?” Shiro asked, minding the varying plants. Something was bubbling over the fire in the back, but it smelt rancid.

“No one’s here, Shiro.” Lance huffed. They’d come all this way for nothing.

“He wouldn’t just leave his lunch cooking. He’s nearby.”

“Lunch?” Hunk approached cautiously. The contents were no more than hot green slime. “You mean poison.”

“It’s not as bad as it looks.” One of the shadows in the store pulled away from the wall.

Keith drew his sword before he could be stopped, and swung at the shape, only for the man to step out of the way easily. Massive and purple, with glowing yellow eyes, a creature like they’d never seen before stepped into enough light to expose himself.

It relieved Keith of his sword a moment later, grasping the blade, and pulling with little effort. “Calm, cub. I am a friend.”

“I don’t know who you are.” Shiro felt no harm in stating. He was grasping his own sword, but he wasn’t sure how useful it would be. Keith had been relieved so easily. Keith already had his dagger out of its sheathe, though he held it low and ready instead of attacking again.

“I am Thace. I and Coran share this domicile.” His spare hand extended in friendship. Shiro’s eyes narrowed. He hadn’t seen any mention of a Galra in the letter he’d gotten earlier. Thace met his stare calmly, before withdrawing the hand to place it over his eyes, pointer on one brow, and pinkie on the other. “[Eka eddyr aí fricai](http://www.crouton.net). [Eka mulabra ono né mïnen](http://www.crouton.net).” He stated calmly. “[Atra esterní ono thelduin](http://www.crouton.net).”

“[Mor'ranr lífa unin hjarta onr](http://www.crouton.net).” Shiro released his sword to mimic the position of his hand.

“[Un du evarínya ono varda](http://www.crouton.net).“ Thace grinned, and it bared teeth made for a carnivore.

Shiro extended a hand this time. “Well met, Thace.”

“You as well, Shiro.”

“What did I miss?” Hunk asked what they all were thinking. One minute the adults were at arms, now they clasped hands like old friends.

“I think Coran forgot to mention you in his missive.”

“That sounds like [Raudhskeggjadhro-duneio](http://www.crouton.net).” Thace nodded. “Probably just excited, there’s rumors of old rising again.”

“The dragon bites it’s own tail?”

“Exactly so.”

“Then he will be doubly excited.”

“What’s going on?” Pidge was concerned.

“Raudh-whatever? What the fuck does that mean?” Keith asked, trying to reclaim his sword.

“Oh, I shall put tea on, then!” Thace clapped, returning the sword, then vanished back into the shadows.

“Shiro?” Hunk tugged on his sleeve. “Please explain what’s happening? What was that gibberish you were spouting? What is that- er, he? Them?”

“Why is the dragon biting its tail, they’re smarter than that!” Lance sounded offended.

“I’ll explain in a bit.” Shiro waved them off, just as there was a crash towards the front of the building.

“Intruders! Who’s broken into my shop while I was absent?!” A male voice cried. A red-headed, thick mustached man flung himself over the barring shelving units, somehow failing to knock over a single plant. Lance dodged, but only just barely. The man stumbled when he failed to connect with someone. “You lucky I’ve a case of the old winter-knees! Otherwise you’d all already be out, 1,2,3,4!” He pointed at each child in his sights.

“Hi Coran.” Shiro greeted.

“Oh! Shiro! You arrived! These your lot? Or do I have to give them all the Hya, Hya, Hya!” Coran straightened up once he’d finished miming their certain demise.

“Yes, they’re mine.” He nodded. “Thace gave us all a fright, you should have mentioned him!”

“I didn’t? Mm, my apologies.” Coran tugged his mustache. “So I heard rumor you were out and about looking for me. What’s the situation you need the old Coranic to fix?”

“Well-” Thace returned with a smile at that moment.

“Perhaps we can fill the table instead of standing about?” He suggested, beckoning their group forward.

“A delightful plan! Yes, yes, we can talk over lunch!” Coran herded them all into the residance overtop the shop, following with his pot of slime.

Lunch was the slime. It didn’t smell like much once it was no longer being heated, luckily. The entire group was a little iffy to actually try it, though Thace and Coran dug in immediately.

Lance frowned as he spooned the first bite in. It... didn’t taste like much, either. The texture was the most off-putting thing about it. It wasn’t terrible. But it wasn’t something he could imagine eating day in and out. Hunk seemed genuinely confused, mostly as to why he was continuing to put more into himself.

“So Iverson actually contacted me first,” Shiro was talking instead of eating. “Sends a pidgeon, all tied up with that damned ring of his.”

“Talk freely, Shiro, I’ve charmed my apartment personally. Tell me, is there really a new rider in Alagaësia? Is the cycle beginning to turn again?”

“There is.” Shiro nodded, placing a hand on Lance’s shoulder. “Lance here managed to get the blue egg to hatch after all this time.”

“The blue-!” Coran jolted forward, snatching up Lance’s hands, only to look disappointed in the bare palms.

“The mark is on his foot. I can only imagine why, but as is fate. Easier to hide this way.” Shiro rescued Lance’s spoon from the floor.

“Where did you find it, Lance? Was it given to you, or just placed conveniently? Which end of Alagaësia do you hail from?”

“Keith found it in the Spine, up by Carvahall. There’s- He said it just appeared in a bang?” Lance tried to take his hands back. He was given them once he had his spoon back.

“Firework pop-bang or a falling object?”

“Like a widow-maker. Like a tree falling in the middle of a forest, just out of sight.” Keith provided.

“Mm, means it was shipped out, likely in a hurry. Curious location? But desolate enough. I’ll have to send out some messages, see which of ours eventually found it, and where.” He hummed over his goo, before finishing it off. “How old is our new friend? Where are they? What are they like?”

“Blue’s a few months old, they hatched at the start of the winter. We had to hide them in the mountains – we couldn’t see a closer spot for them to hide.” Lance explained. “They’re gorgeous, and powerful, and they know it.”

“That’s most dragons, dear boy, especially young ones. No, I mean, what do they look like? They’re such a mixed lot, are they feathery? Furred? Scaled? How do their horns arch? Can you draw? I’ll have to send missives south too.”

“They’re scaly, and their horns are pretty thick and short. Little scale-whiskers on their nose, and they’re pretty stoutly built? I mean, maybe just Dragons look like that? I’ve never seen another to compare... Their wings are big.”

“They kind of remind me of the mountain-lions around the valley.” Hunk offered. “Just like the general face-shape?”

“Stories always say they have these little delicate claws, and long fingers.” Pidge added. “But Blue’s got these little round toes. They use their claws pretty delicately, but there’s very little toe on each foot.”

“They’re blue.” Keith was helpful. “But they’ve got this red star marking on their brow.”

“And yellow eyes.” Shiro nodded. “Most dragons of old had eyes the same shade as their scales. It was considered quite rare for one to have a different colour, nevermind such a contrasting colour.” He explained for his younger counterparts.

“Looks feline, with multiple colours, and broad wings. What a lovely sounding creature!” Coran grinned. “If I give you some locales to pass through, could you find the other two eggs on the way down?”

“It won’t take too long?” Shiro rose a brow.

“No, no, both are on your way.” Coran waved off. “And if you must move on, we can always find them later.”

“Sure.” Shiro turned over his portion of goo to Hunk – much to his dismay – as Coran whipped out a map the size of the table. It rivaled Iverson’s for detail.

“So the one I lodged into a cave here, in the Toark River Valley. It won’t be hard to find, there’s a rune carved into the wall at the mouth of the particular cave. You’re looking for pink sandstone. The rune is The King’s initial and crest.”

“Most of this river-valley is pink sandstone, Coran.” Shiro frowned. “Pink sandstone, riddled with caves.”

“Which is why it was the perfect hiding place! None shall ever be the wiser! At the rear of the cave, is another cave, not much bigger than your average Yelmar pip.”

“So we’re looking for a cave exactly like all the other caves, except it has a cave inside it, the size of a seed?” Hunk clarified.

“A Yelmar Pip! Much bigger than the Yelmar seed.”

“What’s a Yelmar?”

“Magical plant. Hunts in packs, connected at the ears those things are. If there’s one Yelmar in the field, there’s 20 more you can’t see.” Coran answered, as if that explained everything.

“What’s The King’s name? What does the rune you used look like?” Pidge asked. Before someone could answer Zarkon, Coran cut in.

“Alfor, like this.” He pointed to a mark on the map. It was a very simple shape, a thick V with a smaller v cut from the centre. Over the V-shaped crest was a simple A. The mark on the map seemed to indicate where the Capitol was supposed to be.

“We’ll look.” Shiro promised. “But if we don’t find it, please don’t be too disappointed.”

“Of course not! I already said that there’s no rush! They’re well hidden. Now the other is under Dras-Leona. I know that’s largely unspecific, but I wasn’t the one to put it there, so I don’t have anything more to go by. Something about Helgrind Amethyst, though.”

Shiro frowned, then sighed. “We’ll see what we can find.”

“Excellent!” Coran clapped.


	15. REunion

They left the city the next day. Lance rode ahead once they left the gate behind, weaving through the minimal traffic to the northwest. Most were headed into the city.

The rest rode at a more moderate rate, and found Lance flopped over his dragon, rambling through their meeting with Coran. Blue seemed to approve of this exuberant male, or maybe just relished the return of their rider.

_So where are we headed next? Not into anymore busy cities that I cannot feel Lance nearby, I hope?_

“We’ll be making a brief pit-stop,” Shiro admitted. “There’s something we need to look for, in a city to the south. We won’t be long, though.”

Lance smiled as they pouted. “It’ll be okay, my brilliant beauty.” He soothed, “Think of it this way. Character development, or something. Whatever it was that Mama said when I didn’t want to do something that had to be done anyways.”

“It builds character, yes.” Shiro nodded sagely. “Come on, let’s head out. Lance, stay here with Blue, and when the sun sets, come catch up with us. You’ve seen the river-valley to the south, right?”

_I did. You are planning to camp there, by the lake?_

“We are. We’ll... be slow going for a couple days. Coran asked us to grab a dragon egg tucked in there somewhere.”

_I will keep Lance close._ Blue nodded, and nuzzled their rider. Lance giggled as whisker-scales tickled his face.

Shiro nodded, and turned his horse. Lance’s gelding followed once Hunk took the reigns. Pidge helpfully tossed Lance his pack before following the group down the mountain again.

_So what have you seen, my beautiful?_ He asked, scratching their chin.

_Many deer have fled me. They knew I was to make them my meal, especially after I’d already taken some._ They shared a memory of the fleeing beasts. _The winds are mighty, so high up here. They smell of salt and refuse and spring. The snowy season in the plains is almost to an end._

_Can you smell the headwinds yet? The foehn winds will come when it is time for the melt._ Lance pressed a memory of the warm wind, melting everything it touched in mere hours. The smell of damp earth, as it was bared, and new growth, as it was freed.

_No. Nothing yet. I imagine it will be much stronger to me, and I will tell us when it draws near._

_I would not be surprised._ Lance kissed the scales next to him. Then he paused, fingers on their flawless surface. “You’re a winter baby. You haven’t seen a spring yet.”

_I only know 3 moons in their full._ They agreed. _I still have yet to experience many things, Mommy._

_Everything, really. Life._ Lance sighed. _Is there anything you want to know?_

_You’re just a hatchling too._ They chuckled. Lance snorted at that.

_I’m nearly a man, thank you. Once the winds come, Keith and I will both be men._ He insisted. _The end of winter, for him, and the start of spring for me._

_Hatchlings, the both of you._ Blue teased, bumping him with a wing. Lance couldn’t help the giggle that escaped him, shoving them back in retaliation. Blue was happy to play with him, pouncing gently as he wrestled to make them so much as shift.

Finding the group later in the day was easy enough. Shiro was watching the sky, as Lance and Blue coasted over treetops. Lance reached out with his mind, curious as to what they were passing over, and that was how he found them.

But it was curious. Normally, when he wanted to actively talk to them, there was nothing but the friendly consciousness. When he brushed against the four this time, there was something solid around each of their minds. As Blue landed, also curious.

Lance brushed against the horses briefly – they were as they always were – then rubbed up against Hunk.

Nothing, from his best friend. Just the feeling of pressure, and blankness underneath. He tapped it several times, but was not answered. Keith’s brain felt like it was covered in varying blades. Every time he brushed against it, it almost hurt. Pidge’s mind was in a messier state, firmly focused on an acorn they rolled in their hands. But the occasional thought trickled through, itchy nose, ant, fire.

Shiro’s felt like a brick wall. Impassable, but not intimidating or unfriendly. Just blocked.

“What’s going on?” Lance finally vocalized. Blue sniffed Keith’s hair, confused. Shiro was suppressing a grin.

“I got yelled at for not working you harder.” Shiro answered. “And for not teaching these ones how to protect their minds.”

“Oh. What am I supposed to do?” Lance plopped down on the dirt.

“We all felt you touch our minds when you approached. What did you feel?” Shiro asked.

“Brick wall, Acorn, Knives, and Pressure.” He answered, pointing to each of them in turn.

“Okay. Did you try and get into any of our heads?”

“Only Hunk’s. I... well I guess it isn’t quite knocking, but that’s kind of what I visualized, I guess? When he didn’t answer I moved on.”

Shiro nodded at that, understanding. “Would you like to try?”

“Is it okay? I don’t want to intrude.”

“It’s for the sake of the exercise. We’ll try and beat your mental shield up once you’ve had a go.”

“For the record. I prefer this exercise to beating each other up with sticks and bones.” Hunk stated.

“Shh, focus, Hunk. We can go back to hitting one another after dinner.” Pidge elbowed him.

“Dammit.” He buckled back down.

“Pidge’s mental dingle-bobber is pretty much gone now.” Lance announced. Their mind was kind of a whirlwind. So many things going.

Lance moved onto Shiro, since he was closest. His wall was very sturdy, very strong, but maybe not as immovable as previously thought. It took some picking, and scraping, and eventually some wheedling. But he got himself in through a pinhole.

He flung himself into Keith’s mind next. The sharp edges of his defense were a distraction. A sharp, painful distraction, which masked a rather weak defense. He’d been chanting something about patience yielding focus. Lance left the tune of Keith’s least favorite drinking song in his wake.

Hunk’s mind, however, was solid. Perfectly solid. He was focusing on the pressure of his headband. The surface of his consciousness felt like glass. There was nothing to grip, no edge to scrape against or through. Just pure smooth glass.

“He’s pretty good at this.” Shiro nodded when Lance finally gave up.

“I hate you Lance. Why would you leave that in my head, of all things.” Keith scrubbed at his eyes. Lance grinned brightly. Shiro rolled his eyes, and leaned forward to poke Hunk’s knee.

“You win, Hunk, Lance concedes.” He stated when his eyes opened. Hunk’s grin was infectious. “What are you doing when you set up?”

“Oh, because of my nervous stomach, sometimes when I was young I wouldn’t be able to work the steel. Dad taught me to meditate, to try and help me overcome that.” Hunk continued to grin, though it had taken a sheepish flavour. “The headband gives me something to focus on, other than my anxiousness.”

“You said patience yields focus.” Keith sounded betrayed. Shiro shrugged.

“It can differ for different people.” Shiro stated in apology. “Hunk finds focus his way. I find it mine. You and Pidge will find yours.”

“So how do I do this mind solidifying thing?” Lance asked. “I’m hungry.”

“Well,” Shiro relaxed his cross-legged posture. “First, you clear your mind. Then you find something to focus on. The stronger you focus, the stronger the walls around your mind become.”

“I haven’t had walls around my mind since Blue hatched.” Lance started. “I have to completely rebuild them?”

Shiro nodded. “And remember, any hole that Blue can get through, an enemy can get through.”

_So if he has to protect his brain, we can’t talk?_ Blue asked.

“No. I mean, he can talk physically, if he needs you to do something. But Mentally, no.”

“Okay.” Lance settled, and tried to put the thought of the bubbling stew Hunk was making out of his head.

He sat there, focusing on a rock that had made its way into his hands. From there, his mind found a memory of Blue’s egg. The way the sun rippled across it, as opposed to the way the moon did. The white veins that had scored the surface with colour alone. The smooth, glassy surface, cool under a fresh hand, but quick to warm.

It proved to be an ample distraction from his stomach and nose.

He barely felt the first ghosting touch. He was absorbed in the idea of the egg he’d known.

A firm collision of another mind rang brightly through his mind. Almost like a bell, but clearer, and brighter. He ignored it. Another ringing blow.

He held up reasonably well, considering. It was Keith who broke through, in the end. His mind was still like a blade. He used it like one. Forward and sharp, cutting to the point.

“Good.” Shiro was grinning when Lance looked up again. “Very good.”

“I don’t know how safe it is to use the surface of Blue’s egg.” Keith frowned. “Seems like a giveaway.”

“Precious few people have ever seen a dragon egg. I saw it more as hard water before you said anything.” Hunk protested. “It worked, at least.”

“It did pass as water rather well.” Shiro confirmed. They could focus on technicalities later, when they weren’t just starting. “Better than some first tries I’ve seen.” He elbowed Pidge teasingly. Pidge squeaked as they were assaulted.

“I plead small, overtired child.” Pidge grumbled.

“Then get some sleep you piece of shit.” Lance nudged them with his foot.

“I know where you sleep, you piece of shit.”

“We should eat before we sleep, children.” Hunk distracted them with bowls of food. “And maybe stop calling one another names.”

“We know where you sleep, you piece of shit.” Lance and Pidge immediately turned on Hunk. Hunk just snorted.

“I could take both of you, and without waking up.” He flexed his massive, smithing muscles. Pidge and Lance exchanged a glance, then grinned.

“Prove it.” Lance growled.

“Meet me in the pit.” Pidge challenged.

But they both took their food. And once they were all done, Hunk had to fight both of them off – sticks forgotten to the side. Shiro watched, trying very hard to look unimpressed, rather than amused. Keith waited impatiently, fake sword across his lap.

Laughter filled the clearing they were stopped in, brightening the night. Hunk had a friend on each arm, as they tried to subdue him. He was not subduing. He just lifted them, and swung them around playfully. Lance lost his grip first. Pidge was a scrabbly little squirrel of a person, with a tight grip. They fought to incapacitate him even as Lance rolled away.

“Keith! Get over here! Help us!”

“I’m sure Hunk doesn’t want me to hit him with a stick anymore.”

“Then leave the stick out of this!” Lance stood, wobbled, then pounced again. Hunk side-stepped him easily. Keith rolled his eyes, because this wasn’t part of their teaching. But Shiro wasn’t openly complaining. So he let it be.


	16. Ouroboros

Norma slipped out the back door, and dashed through the houses. Her slippers slipped a little on the ice, but she was in a hurry.

Iverson already had several people in his cabin.

"Oh thank goodness - we were worried that you wouldn't get away. What's happening, who are these men?" Mary Garrett asked. "Why are they here?"

"They haven't talked to me yet, but as far as my husband had cared to explain, they are his bosses. Galrans." Norma shed her outer coat. "One's got a fake arm and eye."

"His partner, is he tall and thin? Nasally?" Iverson asked.

"No. A big, husky fellow; complains about the quality of the meat we bring him."

"Prorok and Sendak? Here? Whatever for?" Mary asked. Her husband touched her shoulder gently.

"Is this about Blue?" Mortimer asked. Iverson nodded.

"I'm almost certain." He stated.

"Who's Blue?" Lluvia asked. She was not alone in wondering.

"The snake who eats their own tail." Iverson extended a note. It was stamped with a long unseen crest. "The cycle begins again."

Lluvia's eyes widened, thinking fast. "Mortimer, where are our boys."

"I don't know." He stated honestly.

"They left with Shiro, the morning those two came in." Iverson stated. "I sent them west, to our friends in the trees."

"They're in with the tree friends by now, then, right?" Lluvia asked. Iverson shook his head. "No? What do you-"

"This came from Raudh, down in Teirm." He indicated the paper again. "I can only assume we'll get news from further south soon enough. Shiro does what Shiro wants, apparently, even if it could mean the entire operation."

"The tree friends wouldn't take a completely raw recruit." Norma stated slowly. "They'd want a baseline to work off of. Someone six months trained, at least."

"But if not given another choice."

"They may still prove difficult." Norma stood her ground. She knew their elven allies. They all did, but some of them seemed to have forgotten.

"How did Lance... Lance? Really?" Solomon asked. Lluvia elbowed him.

"My son is a man of many talents. He is good and caring. And he tries very hard." She defended.

"Keith's the more level headed of the two, yes, but he's with him, so we needn't worry." Mortimer stated.

"Except when they're being a positive feedback loop of bad ideas." Mary huffed. "Hunk is the true stability of the group."

"And you sent Katie out there with them!" Iverson looked mildly chided about that at least.

"I didn't do any of that choosing, except to send your baby pickpocket along; Blue chose Lance over Keith, over anyone else that's handled them while unhatched." He huffed. "They're out, they're gone. They're as safe as the big wide world can allow, safer, since Shiro's got them."

"But what do we do with these-" Norma waved her hand in the direction of the tavern.

"It would be unfortunate if they had an accident." Iverson stated. "You're the Golden Hand. I'm sure that you can configure some level of an incident."

"They're nocturnal, and hypersensitive to light and noise." Solomon stated gently. "And, if you have product, I'm sure I could buy some off you. If it makes it convenient."

"There are a few overlarge trees I'm planning on taking down come spring, if anyone needs wood." Mortimer added helpfully.

"We'll see." Norma considered quietly. "I need to head back - Sam will start missing me soon." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> not sure aboot this chappy. I'll come poke it again later


	17. Parenting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((! CONTENT WARNING !)) I fuckin kill a man in this chap. :3 well, technically Sendak does. BUT.

Lluvia returned home in the early morning with her husband. Her households were rioting chaos when they did.

"What happened? Who did what and when? I've been gone a night." She huffed.

"Mama, we have... guests? They are hungry but Oliver won't let them have a chicken?" Suzanne reported.

"That's all?" Disaster and crying babies usually took more.

"Well, there is more, but that's what needs to be tended to first. I can't get Molly off the smaller visitor, so now he's been swarmed in children, and Abraham thinks Bessy's sick, Felicia's definitely sick, but I'm sure it's just a cold but she won't believe me, there's a mouse in the cellar so John put the cat in to fix that but now there's kittens down in the cellar, and Oliver has gotten the remaining children to start an assault of cracked corn and chickens who want said corn - please quell your son."

"He's your brother Suzanne, but hold tight." She rolled up her sleeves, and marched out the door.

"EVERYTHING STOP!" Far to the south, Lance was sure he heard his mother call to order. The noise and commotion stopped, even among the animals. The chickens fluttered away as she approached.

"Children, we don't climb on people who don't want to be climbed on. Come on, off." Prorok was rescued from ear-pulling tots.

"Oliver, what have I said about throwing corn at people?"

"Not to." He responded.

"Say you're sorry to Mr Sendak."

"Sorry Mister Sundeck, don't eats the chickenses please."

"Thank you. Go inside, take your sister. Felicia I see you out of bed. Get your pregnant ass back inside. I need John to get the cats out of the cellar, get children to help if you must, and get the rat out too. Abraham, take Liam and babysit Bessy, I need Mortimer right now. Grace, keep Felicia bedridden until I have a chance to come through, let me know if it's actually worse than her usual snow-mold sniffles!"

People moved, actions were taken, and her farm was running like clockwork again.

"As for you two." She rounded on the Galran men. "I apologize for my brood. We were orchestrating a search party for the boys. There's snow in the air again, and while they're grown enough to know when to come back, I know you're getting impatient."

"When does this leave?"

"Tomorrow morning. I was going to tell you when we left the town, but you weren't there. I was going to offer to let you come, but now I find you two here, terrorizing my children and poultry." She scolded gently. "So now, instead of offering breakfast, I'm going to politely, but firmly, ask you to leave my property, and return to the Tavern until we set out tomorrow."

“I beg to differ, Mrs McClain.” Sendak stood. He was very tall. “Time is wasting. Please gather this group. We shall depart at sundown.”

“It’s an idiot that tries The Spine after dark.” Mortimer protested. “We can aim to have the group leave just before sunrise, so none of the day is wasted. But leaving before then would be suicide.”

“Then you must be prepared to make that sacrifice. We have been patient. But King Zarkon will not wait much longer.” Sendak growled. Lluvia and Mortimer exchanged a glance, then the latter nodded.

“Very well. I’ll gather the boys up. Hold the fort, love.” He kissed his wife, and headed for the barn.

Lluvia and her daughters watched their men head into town. The Galran commanders followed closely, again wrapped tightly in heavy cowls.

In town, Norma was climbing into the attic. Her son steadied the ladder with confusion, then left her to her searching. Sam needed some help in the bar.

Norma opened a chest hidden among other chests. It was labelled Women Only, and, like the other two labelled as such, no one had touched it. Well, Katie may have, but the contents of this one were undisturbed.

She set aside the preserved placenta of her children, and the 5 baby blankets still saved in wax paper in case of another, and opened the false bottom.

A pristine white catsuit awaited her, still wrapped in waxed paper. It probably still fit her, even after two children. Further down was a box, carved out of a white wooded tree, and set with gold.

Gloves, one white, one gold, sat in the center. They covered the false bottom, which contained a razor sharp tiny dagger in white and gold, as well as fifteen tiny vials of clear liquid.

She selected one, considering her options. The Galran commanders had to go. But she didn't recall. Were the purple monsters as susceptible to Skilna Bragh as humans were? Were these monsters susceptible at all? It was possible to train against the poison. No, she would leave that one.

Another was selected. Tunivor’s Nectar was a cure, but only for those who’d taken Skilna Bragh. It was a volatile poison in it’s own right.

Other viles were labelled with more common poisons. Cyanide. Iocane. Hebenon. Datura. Mandrake. Deadly Nightshade. Her family was already immune to most of them, it would not take much to take out even the large galrans.

But instead she put her poisons away, and set everything back in the place it came from. She had promised herself, years ago, that no more would die at her hand. No more would be hurt. Instead she laid back against the box, and hugged the closest thing to Katie that she had. Her darling child was somewhere in Alagaësia, out of hugging reach.

Hopefully she could feel the hug through the preserving jar carved like her once infantile form.

The Garretts had a guest of their own. Solomon hugged his twin brother, Sirius.

“So how has Hunk been? You didn’t bring him?” He asked.

“He moved on. There wasn’t really anything I could teach him, as you told him. Thanks for that vote of confidence, by the way.” Sirius punched his arm playfully. “Yeah, some friends of his passed through, so he headed out then.”

“Any plan on where he was going?” Solomon asked. Hunk had probably gone with Lance, Pidge, Keith and Shiro, then.

“Y’know, I forgot to ask. I was more excited to have my forge back.” Sirius huffed. “He took over, Mary. There wasn’t a single quiet hour. He taught a few of my other journeymen things they’d never even heard of. All while being an anxious wreck. I don’t understand.”

“That’s my boy.” She beamed with pride. “Now, Sirius, we should address something serious.”

“Oh no?” He looked between his sister-in-law and twin. “Who broke what? It wasn’t me.”

“No, no. Just a message.” Solomon assured. But the way he said message drove a chill through his brother’s spine. “[Du Indlvarn hethr mor’amar](http://www.crouton.net).” He whispered.

“You’re sure.” Sirius confirmed. The nod was all he needed. “We’ve been called?”

“We’re waiting.” Solomon stated. They all looked up when Mortimer popped into the forge, his sons-in-laws following close, looking confused. “Mortimer?”

“You know how we agreed to go looking for the boys tomorrow morning? Yeah, these commanders want us to start that search PDQ. Hi Sirius. Meet you in the square in 10, Solo?”

“Oh, yeah, I mean, it’s pretty late, isn’t it?” Solomon frowned. They hadn’t concocted a plan B yet. Norma hadn’t had a chance to _move_ yet.

“Yeah. So... come prepared for a long, dark, cold walk.” Mortimer grimaced at the very thought. The four exchanged a look, but then the twins nodded.

“Make something warm, my love.” Solomon kissed her cheek, and went to prepare for the search. She nodded, and returned to her stove.

Mortimer was pretty sure the Solomon that was before him was actually Sirius, but that wasn’t something he was calling on. The former was a better smith. The latter had his own skills, ones that would be more useful.

“Alright. The boys usually start up the mountain just north of here. We’ll start there, and stay together as we press forward. Once we start seeing signs of them, we’ll spread out.”

“Little late for a search party to start,” More than one person stated. Sendak rolled his eye at the same complaint, again. He stepped forward, dislodging Mortimer from the small town stage.

“His Imperial Majesty, King Zarkon has a vested interest in the McClain boys.” He growled from his deep cowl. “They will be found, and quickly.”

Sam and Matt were towards the back. Matt looked especially confused. Shiro had taken them, on a journey. Had Shiro returned without the two? If so, where was Katie? Were they okay? His little sister was a treasure, and they had to find her too. He hadn’t seen or heard of Shiro returning, though.

“Dad, is everything okay?” He asked quietly, as they started up the mountain. “Is Katie safe?”

“I don’t know. I thought she was with the boys, but now I’m not sure. Maybe she buggered off to Therinsford when I mentioned marriage.” He replied in the same quiet tone.

“But Takashi-”

“Wasn’t here. No one saw him. It was probably just a daydream, from staying awake with your sister so long.” There was an odd look in his father’s eye. Matt caught on, then nodded.

“That’s fair.” He nodded. He could press for answers later.

The group trudged through the snow for several inclining miles.

Sirius exchanged a glance with Mortimer, and got a silent indication. Sons-in-laws dropped back a few steps, forming a rough semi-circle when they saw the signal.

“[Jierda theirra kalfis](http://www.crouton.net)!” Broke the silence, but not from Sirius. He jolted, confused. The commanders’ wards were yet active, a simple spell like that wouldn’t possibly get through. One of Mortimer’s clan faltered, as the spell did nothing, and left him ashen and weak besides.

Yellow eyes found him easily.

“What was that, whelp?” Sendak growled, approaching. Mortimer could offer no excuse for Liam. He would apologize to Felicia later. She was about to loose her husband.

“I- Uh. It’s a curse. That they say in the city.” Liam offered. “Aha, break their legs, we have to go find them now. The idiocy of teens on the cusp of manhood, am I right?”

“Is that so?” Sendak asked, looming over the young man. “Pray tell, which city is it that says this as such?”

“B-belatona?” He offered.

“Wrong.” Sendak spat. His cloak shifted, exposing a metal arm that was nearly the size of a man. Heavily clawed besides, it shoved directly through Liam’s chest. Even at the back of the group, the Holts were well splattered with gore.

Sendak’s hood slipped, exposing the purple of his fur to those who were in the dark. He growled, and removed his arm from the young man, letting the corpse fall.

“Anyone else care to mutiny?” He offered, raising his gore-covered hand.

No one moved, as the snow under them stained red, and more started to fall in the late evening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I FUCKIN DIDS IT  
> 50K words, done! *claps self on back because everyone else is asleep*


	18. In Which Shiro

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((!!CONTENT WARNING!!)) Fights are fights, and people take hits. If you've read Eragon, u know what happens to Brom ;D

Shiro was dozing slightly, instead of watching. Blue snored at his back, and around them the rest of the group slept soundly. Hunk’s arms were being used as a spare blanket by Lance and Pidge alike. Keith was rather tightly curled between Lance and Hunk, buried under their abandoned blankets.

The trees around them stirred with wind. The horses were asleep too, even.

The cave-riddled valley rose high around them, blocking the worst of the wind. The night was warming, though, as the Foehn wind increased in speed and velocity.

It hid the smell of the approaching threat, which was smart enough to stay downwind. Shiro jolted awake when the light of the moon broached the roof of the cave they’d camped in. How long had he slept? Pretty long. But he couldn’t bare to wake the children. They slept so peacefully. He could withstand a tired, under rested day, for their peaceful sleep.

The sudden blast of a war-horn skinned him with shock. Shadows began filtering out, as the children roused at the noise.

“Shiro?” Keith was on his feet fastest.

“Swords, bows, now!” He replied, drawing. “Get Katie out of here!” Blue took to the air, escaping up with Pidge. They were asleep still – overtired from constant travel paired with insomnia. Lance stumbled to his feet, as Hunk did the same. Both of them were barely able to focus, but strung their bows on memory alone.

Arrows waited, blades shone. Urgals were filtering out of the trees, dozens of the beasts. They eyed the small group cockily, ignoring the escaping horses. Shiro growled lowly, cursing the lack of warning.

Keith was counting. Hunk blinked sleep from his eyes, as Lance considered the options.

_They’re too many. We have to flee._

_We’re surrounded._ Shiro countered. _Fight._

_Someone send me into an attacking attack._ Keith offered. _I’m replaceable._

_Ha, no. Blue!_

_The horned men are many. But they surround the outer entrance to the cave. You can’t climb the wall out?_

_No, can you get us out?_

_It’ll have to be one at a time! Pidge is awake now, on a horse. Going._

_Hunk next then!_ Lance commanded. The Urgals surged forward, varying blades and melee weapons at the ready. There were a couple bows, which Lance aimed for.

He took out the archers in quick succession, as Hunk let fly into the mass proper. Keith was as deadly with a blade in hand as Shiro was. But the Urgals just kept coming.

Lance felt rather than saw Hunk get dragged away by a massive blue maw. He kept picking off hard-looking enemies as they appeared. _Keith, I’m sending you next._

_No. Go, you fucking idiot. You’re the most important one here, with your fancy dragon and all._ His arguing was for naught, as a blue maw fished him free, and dragged him off.

_You will go before I do, Lance. Blue, get your fucking rider out of here!_ Shiro pressed as they vanished with Keith.

_Yes Sir._ They didn’t argue with him. Lance wanted to, but he was yanked away. He fired off as many shots as he could. But he couldn’t help. The last thing he saw before Blue turned away was the Urgals surging forward. Shiro’s sword missed a block, and a blade bit through his arm into his side.

Blue dropped Lance on a horse, and quickly winged away. They were gone, for so long after that, the sounds of war echoing through the valley. They had to keep moving, further down the river. Lance felt sick, but he couldn’t linger on it yet.

Eventually Blue did wing out of the sky, wings bloody with arrow holes, and several scrapes and cuts down their chest and forelegs. They landed hard, and Shiro-less.

Lance dismounted before his horse could fully stop. None of the cuts or holes were bleeding seriously – they probably stung, but nothing looked life-threatening.

“Where’s Shiro?!” Keith demanded, fright on his every movement.

_I’m sorry. I’m sorry!_ They wept. Lance felt his breath catch in his lungs as he staunched the worst looking wounds. _I couldn’t- I’m not big enough yet! I couldn’t get him out!_

“You moved me?” Hunk protested.

_You were not under a dozen Urgal!_ Their chest heaved, _I tried my best but I failed. I’m sorry!_

“Blue, head down here, babe.” Lance opened his arms. They pressed their muzzle into his chest, grateful for the comfort. “You tried. It’s okay, don’t cry.” He was crying himself, but that was a different point exactly.

“It’s not fucking okay!” Pidge snapped. But when Lance stared back, composure wobbling and eyes liquid, they let off. “It’s not okay, though-” Was their more hysterical protest. Keith growled off to the side, punching a tree.

“Why did you have to pull us out like that? Shiro was the one who knew where we were going!” He snapped once he had bloody knuckles for the effort. “Sure, south, but what then? Surda? The Beor Mountains? Cross the water to lands uncharted?!”

“Shiro insisted! He wouldn’t hear it, letting Blue take him before me! I would’ve stayed!” Lance snapped back. “But I needed to survive for Blue!” He was shaking. They all were, adrenaline wearing off into fear and solitude.

“You could have-” Keith was stopped by a large hand on his shoulder. Hunk looked physically ill, but he was fighting his tears best.

“We should keep going.” Was about all he managed. “Don’t... Don’t fight. Right now. Please.” Silence fell for a long second, then he got nods. They remounted if they had to, and turned to continue. They rode in silence along the rushing water, Blue following in said water, since they could swim faster than they could walk, even upstream.

“We need a plan.” Pidge finally broke the silence. Their voice was so soft, and echoed all the fear and uncertainty. “It’s too hard to go back north, Home or to the elves. Teirm is behind that horde of Urgals.”

“What are you thinking?” Hunk asked.

“There’s one way I know to find the Varden. But we’re going to need to backtrack a little.” They stated. “Dad’s office is in Gil’ead. As his... as his daughter, I can probably break in, and snoop through the files. There’s probably a list in there, of places the Varden might be.”

“That’s pretty far.” Lance said numbly.

“Safer than Uru’baen.” Keith agreed with Pidge. “There’s no place in Dras-Leona?”

“I don’t know Dras-Leona.” Pidge stated simply. “Never been. Got Dad’s map of Gil’ead though.”

Hunk pondered. “We can think on it.” He decided.

“Until when?” Was the question.

“Until. Until we reach Woadark Lake.” Hunk fought to remember the lay of the land. The map was right there, in Shiro’s pack. But he couldn’t find the strength to disturb the items.

“What’s the other option?” Keith asked.

“We head south. Follow the Toark to Surda. Once we’re out of the country, we might be able to find someone who’ll help us to the Varden.”

“Two big chances.” Lance observed. “Blue?”

_I’m sorry.._. They were still caught up, as they swam alongside. _I’m sorry..._


	19. Slytha

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a spider. Do I have to tag that?

Keith and Lance exited the cave that was their current campsite, leaving it to Pidge and Hunk. His hands shook as he tried to light the small, dry wood. They had to cook – their dried meat was nearly gone. Dry bread and hard cheese had been exhausted days ago.

Pidge returned with a bunch of wild truffles and some cattail tubers. He hadn’t noticed them leave.

“Are you okay, Hunk?” Pidge asked softly, setting down beside him. The greens were already washed clean. How long had he been trying to light a fire?

“I’m nervous without Shiro here.” He finally voiced.

“We all are.” Pidge validated him. “We’re all doing our best to be brave. You’re doing a good job.”

“I’m not sleeping properly.” Hunk added softly. “I’ve felt nothing but sick since he was k- captured." It was easier to say, and that was his entire defense.

“That’s just your anxiety talking.” They touched his arm.

“I know,” He slumped, and tried again to set the tinder ablaze. This time it caught, and he had to rile it into a blaze before it died again. Pidge helped. “I know you have sleeping issues as is... are you doing okay?”

“That fact that you’ve slept at all is a miracle. I’ve gotten maybe an hour in the last week.” They honestly kind of looked it when Hunk peered closer. “Sleepover night?”

“I’m sure we can swing it.” Hunk drew them into a hug. The fire was now going, at least. “How long were you out?”

“Not long, I know where to look for this sort of thing.” They pressed into the hug, before pulling away to get their knife. The tubers and truffles were easy cutting after their winter-long freeze. “Saw the truffle-marks when I was headed back to those cattails at the turn of the river. Figured we could use some goodies to strengthen our resolve.”

“They’re appreciated.” Hunk filled their pot with river-water, and left it to boil. Pidge watched him stand with a concerned air. “Mind the water for me? I’ve gotta pee.”

“Sure.” They went back to their chopping.

Hunk was paused in his return, however. There was something weird reflecting off the wall in the light of the fire. He approached slowly, drawing his knife. It proved to be nothing that needed knifing, but was rather a carving.

Hunk’s brows rose when he recognized the v-shaped sigil. It was worn and faded with a half decade’s worth of storms and exposure. But it was definitely not natural.

“Pidge-” Hunk started to call, but they were already beside him, investigating what he had noticed. “Is this-”

“Looks like it.” They had to stand on tiptoe to touch it. “How big’s a Yelmar pip?”

“I dont even know what a Yelmar is, can’t answer that.” Hunk shook his head. He couldn’t feel Blue nearby, nor either of their friends. It was a worrying sensation. But now they had a glimmer of good luck.

“Cool.” Pidge abandoned the sigil, following the wall. Hunk watched them carefully, before going to save the water. He emptied the truffles and tubers in, and shifted the pot away from the fire enough that it wouldn’t boil out. He then followed Pidge, freeing a makeshift torch from the blaze for them.

Pidge grinned gratefully, appreciating the light as they peered into every crack, nook and cranny. Hunk followed closely, chewing a lip.

“Blue’s egg was pretty big,” He interrupted after watching Pidge peek into a hole in the wall that barely fit their fingers in. “I know he said a Pip, but maybe he was... exaggerating a little?”

“I’ll check them anyways, since there’s a chance of there being a trap-door, or some other hidden entrance that really is just the size of a- ow!” They wrenched their finger free, and a fat spider wiggled its legs at them. “Rude.” They stated around their finger.

“Maybe no more fingers in holes.” Hunk grimaced. It didn’t look like any of the poisonous ones he knew. Pidge would probably be fine.

“Good plan.”

Lance returned with Blue to find Hunk’s top half stuck in a hole. Pidge was cheering him on, but from the way he was wiggling, he was not getting out anytime soon.

“Need help, guys?” He asked. Blue dropped their deer, and took off to go get Keith and the other deer. Lance padded over, eyeing the shape of the hole.

“He’s got it.” Pidge grinned.

“No, No, I do not have this thing that they are implying I have.” Hunk sounded mildly pained. “Lance, if you love me, please help.”

“I come to the rescue! Pidge, go start that deer into the broth.” Lance ducked into the small alcove, and wedged his fingers into the minimal space between Hunk’s sides and the cave wall. It took some wiggling, several scraped fingers, and a tear in Hunk’s shirt, but he was released before the meat finished cooking.

“So what was so frightening you shoved yourself in the smallest hole you could find?” Lance stroked Hunk’s mussed hair tenderly.

“It wasn’t fear this time, actually.” Hunk chuckled weakly. “Look, towards the back.” He pointed into the hole. Lance ducked, and peered in. “Pidge could get in further, but their arms aren’t long enough to touch it. I could touch it, but then my waist got stuck.”

“Good job there. Here.” Lance squeezed into the alcove next, gangly frame fitting without sticking. “What am I feeling for?” Without a torch, Lance had no idea what they were trying to get at. The fire was too far off.

“Remember Blue’s egg?” Hunk asked. “Of course you do. Find it again in there.”

Lance frowned into the dark, but groped blindly. He was pleasantly surprised when his hands found the smooth, glassy surface of a dragon egg. It took a little wiggling, and Hunk stabilizing his hips so he could get leverage, but a golden egg eventually rolled out into the open. It was massive, easily larger than Blue’s had been. It was corded with black veins, rather than white.

Lance grinned as it glimmered in the firelight. “You guys found it!”

“Yeah, noticed the carving on the wall when I stepped out.” Hunk grinned. “So sorry if the truffles over-cooked.”

“They’re fine.” Pidge called from the fire. They were smoking meat into dried strips while soup bubbled. “Bring this little fucker over here.”

“Big fucker, actually.” Lance had trouble lifting the egg. It fell to Hunk to carry.

“Oh, wow. Was Blue- but no, Keith hoofed them down the mountain solo, they couldn’t have been.” Pidge frowned, patting the shell when Hunk set it gently on a bedroll. “Why is this one so big?”

“I don’t know.” Hunk hummed, stroking it gently. “Keep that in mind, we can ask someone later. After Gil'ead.” In finding the new dragon, his stomach had calmed somewhat. He felt a little better.

A little braver.

“We’re doing that now?” Pidge looked hopeful.

“Yeah.” Hunk agreed. Lance grinned. Keith would be so pissed once he was here.

“Excellent.” He pressed his face against the warm shell. It felt warmer than Blue ever had. Not hot, but comfortably warm, like a dirt road under a sunny day.

“Hey hey, no kissing up to this dragon too, dragon-boy.” Pidge tugged his ear. “You’ve already got one.”

“Haha, rude. If anything, I’m the most qualifi-” Lance stopped talking abruptly. “Did you hear that?”

“No.” But they stood as one, readying bows. There was only silence outside the cave. Deep, unabating silence. Not unlike the night the storm had hit so viciously.

“Where’s Blue and Keith?” Pidge asked softly. They nocked an arrow slowly.

“I don’t know.” Lance admitted, mirroring the motion. “We had to go pretty far.”

“Shh.” Hunk felt the air around them shift. Something was very wrong. And not in a stormy way.

Shadows moved, deep inside the trees around the mouth of the cave. They drew their bows, aiming for the heart. The moment a stranger stepped forward – tall and lanky, lavender skinned and red haired – they loosed.

The figure dismissed the arrows to the side with a wave of their hand. Then they pointed at the trio, and spoke. “Slytha.”

And they slept.


	20. I cant title this chapter because too many things happen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((!!CONTENT WARNING!!)) It's like im a neck romancer or something?? but instead of returning limbs to their owners, I take them. Actually, neck romancer might be the wrong term.

Hunk woke alone, in a cell, chained to a wall. It took a while for him to realize what was happening, as he blinked up at the chains in confusion.

They were shitty chains, he decided slowly. Who'd made these? He deserved to have his name as a smith revoked. He could see the torsion lines, with his naked eye.

Before he could decide to break them, however, footsteps entered his hearing. Three guards, in Zarkon's colours, and a terrifying being with lavender skin, and hair in deepest, bloodiest red.

"Good morning." The shade grinned, exposing razor teeth.

"How can I help you today, Mr-" Hunk asked, as though he weren't chained to a wall, and was instead back in his home forge.

"Lotor. Sir Lotor, Shade of Zarkon. What is your name, boy?"

"Hunk Garett. Journeyman Blacksmith."

"It is a pleasure to meet you. Do you know why you're here, Mr Garett?”

"Beeeeecause you need a smith?" He eyed the worn chain mail of the soldiers. The rusting bars of his hold. He was not perceived as a threat.

"... While that may hold true, no." Lotor followed his gaze, agreeing on some level. "You are here because we found something curious among you and your cohorts. Did you know them personally? Or simply by way of travelling together?"

"Just headed in the same direction. Strength in numbers and all that. Wouldn't want to come upon something nasty alone. Urgal territory and all that." Hunk explained. He focused carefully on the way his headband pressed against his brow, forming his mental defense.

"I see. The large yellow gemstone, that was among your belongings?"

"Explained it was their goods they were shipping. Trade it or sell it, what have you. Hence why they accepted me on their train. Cheaper than the average mercenary, with all the muscle."

"So they paid you to go the same way."

"Hardly, Sir."

"Hardly paid or hardly forced you off your path?"

"Yes to both, Sir."

"And what was your destination?"

"Any place that would work my hands and hone my skill, Sir. Hopefully pay a good amount too, so I may raise house, then fill it with love."

"I see." The shade considered him, then nodded, and left. The guards remained, however.

Hunk had found friends in them swiftly. Myzax was supposed to be a smith as well, but had been forced into uniform to care for an ailing mother. Rover, a boy not even Hunk's age, was raw, but promising. The third was Cova, and aged by years in the battlefield. Hunk was commended for looking for honest work in an uncertain world.

It was many hours before the shade returned, and his mind glanced off Hunk's still erect barrier. But the shade showed no notion of having tried when he did reappear.

"Journeyman Hunk, I have reviewed your tale with the others of your party. Unfortunately, they are conspirators against and thieves of King Zarkon, and, by accepting their gold, that does make you guilty by association. I have spoken to King Zarkon, however. He would like to offer, in his infinite kindness, the opportunity to redeem yourself." Lotor approached with a small chest. It was heavy enough to raise dust on the floor, for all he set it down with utmost care.

"May I know the details before I say yea or nay?" He was still chained to the wall. He did not have a lot of choice in the matter.

"This stone, not unlike your companions', belongs to the king. They are actually dragon eggs."

Hunk was treated to a sight. Solid green, but webbed across in black and gold veins, a third egg was displayed on velvet.

It was beautiful, and seemed to hum even as he watched.

"You, along with a hundred guards, will deliver this, the yellow egg, and your companions, to Uru'baen. If all your goods arrive, without harm or theft, His Majesty will find you innocent of conspiracy, and grant pardon for your unfortunate involvement." Lotor paused. "And I'm certain that work could be found for a brave, loyal soul like yourself.”

"That's mighty fine and fair of you, Sir Lotor." Hunk produced a warm smile.

"Of course. Your group will leave an hour after dawn." Lotor left again, and this time took the guards. Hunk was left alone.

It was hours until a more familiar mind brushed against his own. His defenses fell for Blue. He filled her in immediately.

_Lance is near the roof, but he is drugged and helpless like a chick. Pidge is down the hall, also drugged senseless. Then there is someone nearby that also needs help, who's mind cries familiar, but I cannot place it. Too many drugs._

_Where is Keith?_

_Between my wings, waiting on a sign.'_

_Alright. So._

Two hours to dawn, Hunk struck. It was tedious work, bending metal without snapping it, catching links that fell before they alerted someone.

He escaped quickly, and, heart in his throat, snuck up into the higher levels of Gil'ead's fortress.

Lance was easiest to find. He sang mournful songs his mother had sung him, unhappy. He was alone, dazed, drugged and confused.

"Hey Lance." Hunk whispered. "You're safe, get some sleep."

Lance focused on his face, then nodded dumbly, and face-planted into Hunk's shoulder.

He was silent, as Hunk bore him away down the hall. Pidge was next, locked in a room. He hefted them over his shoulder, and continued onward.

Keith appeared in a window eventually. He was alone.

"Blue will come in 5 minutes." He whispered. Hunk nodded. Cool. He transferred Pidge to Keith, and nodded down the hall. This way.

The last cell was occupied by two beings. A haggard old woman, and a much younger, very familiar man. She seemed occupied.

"I will return, Shirogane. Think on my proposal, and you may yet live to see the sky again." She vanished abruptly, moments after.

Keith and Hunk exchanged a glance. He wasn't dead?! But with their arms full, and the eggs still unfound.

"I did think so. No mere smith can raise a defense like yours and hold it." A voice startled the four of them, rousing drugged friends still in stupor.

Lotor cracked his knuckles loudly, and drew his sword, grinning as the two humans dropped their companions to fight.

A fight they had no hope of winning.

Keith charged in, sword flashing. His expression was one of fury, and Lotor appreciated it. They met with a ringing of blades that hurt all nearby ears.

Hunk panicked in the background. He was shit with a sword, and there were no bows available. He couldn’t exactly just jump into a sword fight fists swinging. ... Could he?

Lance watched the fighting numbly, barely able to think, never mind move. Buzzing filled his mind, and it felt like things were trying to constrict his brain.

Pidge agreed, also drugged out of their mind. What a bad man, though, to make Hunk look so determined through his distress. His lips were moving, but Pidge couldn’t hear the word that shattered the air like ringing steel, as he leapt forward with only his fists for weapons.

They all startled when flames erupted about Hunk’s fist. Lotor especially, as flaming knuckles collided with the side of his face.

There was a mighty crack – Lotor’s neck had to have snapped, from the angle of his head – and he fell to the ground. His physical form collapsed into nothingness, leaving clothes and weapons to the care of the floor.

Hunk watched him fall, feeling only the bruising of his knuckles. The golden flames around his hand were petering out now, but he felt no heat or burning from them. Just light.

“What the crap was that?” Keith demanded. “That, Brisi- whatever you said?”

“I don’t know, that’s never happened before I don’t know what happened?!” Hunk had only bruised his hand, with a blow that had snapped a man’s neck. He had killed a man. He had killed a man, with his bare hands, while accidentally setting himself on fire, without burns to show for it.

He was not alone in fearing his hands. 18 guards were staring at him, awestruck.

“Ya killed ‘im.” Rover stammered. “Ya killed ‘im dead. Are ya goin’ to do that to us now?”

“I- I-” Hunk stammered, but Keith picked up immediately.

“Yeah, he will.” Keith growled. “All of you, unless you bring our stuff to us, and let us leave, immediately.”

“And the giant egg-stones.” Hunk added quickly. “Both of them.” His gut twisted uncomfortably at the very thought, but the Guards scattered. Most of them were hardly men, and fewer actually wanted to be here.

Blue was directed to the roof, and they loaded them down with Shiro and the eggs. They took off with the lot, flying south. Keith and Hunk followed close behind, into the dense forest that bordered the Ramr river. Lance and Pidge were tied into their saddles during the mad gallop, but they hardly noticed or cared.

They’d put several leagues between them and Gil’ead when the klaxon of an alarm rose over the trees from the distant town. They hurried their pace, diverting off the main path, and into the deeper, denser parts of the wood. They were travelling closer to the river, on a path that looked like it flooded a lot, but it would be harder for a larger patrol to follow.

They didn’t break until the horses started to slow, gasping under them from the exertion. Blue winged down to meet them, landing a little heavier than usual. Shiro was much heavier than Lance, though, and the eggs were no small burden.

 _I cannot yet speak freely with Lance! He wiggles free like a fish every time I try!_ They complained, padding over to nose their rider. _Also one of you may want to check on Shiro, he smells off._

Hunk was starting to shake, personally. He’d Killed today. He’d taken a life. Willingly. Knowingly. With his bare hands. But he stepped forward to check on Shiro all the same, once he’d dismounted his horse.

Shiro was yet unconscious, but his side was drenched in blood. Hunk had to back off the situation, to puke, as Keith came to assess the situation. Once his heaves stopped, he did light a small, smokeless fire. Shiro would need more than a salve, as proven when Keith cut his sleeve off, to expose a gristly stump.

Half torn out stitches lined the outer skin, and the flow was weak and sluggish despite Shiro’s relatively strong, if slow, pulse. He was unconscious, true, but this was not a new wound.

Keith dug into their packs, and found a linen shirt. He would apologize to Lance later. He ordered Hunk to boil water as he cut bandage strips from them. He set them aside, and propped the stump on his thigh. He accidentally drew a little more blood-flow pulling the failed stitches, and the couple flies that had discovered the raw meat of his arm.

Hunk provided the boiled water when it was ready. Keith set into cleaning it best he could. Once it was clean, Hunk provided a deep jar of healing salve. It was slathered on thickly, and the whole lot was bound.

Shiro didn’t move the entire time he was under their care. He breathed, and his heart beat, but he was very and truly unconscious. He made no noise, either.

Keith looked up from his work with a worried expression. Hunk had no assurance to give. He was freeing Lance from his horse. Pidge was already flopped out on the grass.

“Shiro, come on, wake up. You’re safe.” Keith murmured, tipping his face up. “We’ve saved you, Shiro, now’s a good time to wake up and keep leading. Shiiiiirrrrroooooo, wake uuuuuuup. We got you out. Yoooooou arrrrre saaaaafffffe-” He was becoming increasingly desperate.

“Don’t shake his head off too, Keith,” Hunk warned. “He may just be drugged too.”

“Maybe he just needs a kiss from a prince~!” Lance declared, swaying dangerously as he stood. Hunk sat him back down next to the fire.

“No, I’m pretty sure that’s not it.”

“Dunno til you try-”

“And you’re not allowed to try. Sorry Lance.” Hunk patted his shoulder. Lance proceeded to whine.

Pidge eventually raised from the grass, and crawled over to the fire.

“Hunk. Hunk.”

“I’m right here.” He extended a hand. It took Pidge three tries to take it.

“Hunk, my head. It. I can’t.” They struggled to find the word.

“You were drugged.” He explained gently, pressing a warm cup of broth into their hands. “Drink.” He helped them move the cup to their mouth, then turned and did the same for Lance. He was being grumpy, but he did drink.

Keith considered Shiro, then just wrapped him in his bedroll. He would have Hunk drag him over to the fire once they’d eaten. His portion of broth was waiting.

“Thanks.” He dropped down next to Lance. Hunk nodded gently. “Also for dealing with Lotor. He was a pretty good sword-fighter. I might not’ve won.”

“Oh. Yeah.” Hunk chewed his cheek. The sicky look returned to his face.

“He wasn’t a good guy. Shades are bad news. It’s good he’s gone.” Keith continued. Hunk just made a noncommittal noise. Lance achieved the remaining portion of broth. Hunk jumped when a large blue nose pressed against his cheek.

 _Do not regret, Hunk._ Blue purred. Their head retreated, then returned. Keith gaped as a golden hatchling was dropped into Hunk’s lap.

Hunk screeched, surprised and pained. White-hot pain raced up his left leg, centering around a spot just above his knee where the hatchling hand collided first. He did manage to catch the hatchling before they flailed and rolled into the fire. The size of the average hound, it scrabbled back into his embrace.

Blue looked terribly smug, placing their head in Lance’s lap. The other egg was still in its box, securely on their back.

“I want a friend too.” Pidge complained. Keith snorted, but stood, an dropped beside them. “Thanks Keith.”

“No prob. Hunk, are you okay?”

“They’re so small.” He was successfully distracted at least. “They’re just a baby.”

“What fucking nerds and their giant ass lizards.” Pidge was less impressed.

“I know.” Keith scoffed. Lance was cooing over Blue’s little whiskers. Hunk had a new friend to inspect.

The yellow hatchling was different from Blue, in many ways. They were pure yellow, for one, and already their wings were far too large for their body. A barrel chest was already evident. Blue’s face was almost lion-like, where as the hatchling’s was more remnant of a bull terrier, with a broad jowl that extended beyond their nose. Instead of white ivory points, they were black, as the veins of their egg was.

Hunk considered his new friend, then hugged them. They were firm despite their small size – huggable by a guy his size. The hug earned him some enthusiastic face licks.

Keith smiled softly, stroking Pidge’s hair idly. Blue had a friend now too.


	21. Let's see how far we've come

Blue took the hatchling and Shiro when the latter failed to wake before the next dawn. They had to continue, however, before Gil’ead caught up. They forded the river at an early hour, turning as south as they could. Avoiding Uru’baen seemed like a solid plan. But the Varden was south as well, so they couldn’t exactly choose a different direction.

They traveled through the trees at a quick pace. Night fell, and they made camp, if only to eat and check on Shiro.

He was very much unconscious still. Pidge was starting to kick the drug, though Lance was still loopy. His muddled brain was a cause of distress for Blue. If the drug was already working through Pidge, though, it wouldn’t be long before Lance recovered, and hopefully before Shiro also came up.

Hunk leaned over their unconscious leader after dinner, and pressed his mind against the man’s mind. It was muddled like Lance’s was, but also heavily guarded. Even unconscious and drugged, his mind was nearly impenetrable.

Meaning that they were going to have to wait for Lance to fully recover before they could try wading into the man’s mind, and convincing him that he was safe. But maybe he would wake before then.

He didn’t. They made the Hadarac Desert the next day. There was a quick argument, as skimming the desert would loop them too close to Uru’baen, but cutting through the sand would also prove treacherous.

They delved directly into the sand dunes in the end, at Blue’s urging. Continuing forward was a good plan.

Right up until they were a day into the sand, without water for miles, with the only liquid in their personal water-skins.

“Blue, we have an issue.” Keith regretted speaking aloud. “There’s no water out here. Nothing to hunt.” It was dry and hot, and while nice, his mouth was instantly filled with sand from the wind.

 _I can smell water. There is water here._ They landed. Their nose brushed the ground, whiskers twitching occasionally. They stopped after a few miles of scuffling. Broad paws scooped sand away, and within a half meter, the sand started flooding into a pool. Blue lapped at it testingly. _It is good water, too._ They were all staring at them.

Yellow – as Hunk had named the hatchling temporarily – leapt off their shoulders, and into the sand. They rolled and flailed in the loose grains happily, before chirping, and sliding down the bank to drink.

 _Good girl._ Lance hummed softly. The sound of his mental voice was surprising, but he looked a little clearer than he had earlier in the day. The drug was starting to wear off of him too.

 _Of course I am._ Blue puffed up. _Yes, I think the female ones work for me. Use those now._

“Sure.” Keith dismounted, and lead his horse to the water. The rest followed with similar agreements. She lowered herself when they indicated, releasing Shiro from the saddle. He looked worse for wear – dry and somewhat sunburned – from the long hours in the air. It took several minutes, but they did get some water into him.

He still wasn’t responding.

They pressed forward through the borderline cold night. The horses were tired, but there wasn’t a good place to stop, really. The bright moon was good enough for light, and without the blistering sun, it was almost easier.

Hunk paused them just before dawn.

“We’ve gotta give the horses some break-time. There’s no feed out here, but without rest they won’t last another day.” He stated, dismounting. “We can go again once we get some sleep.”

“That’s fair.” Keith nodded. “Blue, is there more water about?”

 _Yes._ She landed a hundred feet away with a whumph, and went back to snuffling through sand.

They made camp next to her fresh-dug pond. They were joined within a few hours by several sandy-coloured hares, and a dozen lizards. The dragons got to eat fresh meat, but without wood, there was nothing but the hard cheese and dried meat for their palates. After their dinner, Lance padded over to Shiro.

“He’s been out the entire trip?” He asked.

“Yeah.” Hunk nodded as he scratched Yellow.

 _He will not rouse for any of us. You may try, though._ Blue leaned over him as well.

“I’ll try, but I genuinely think a kiss from a handsome prince is all he really needs.”

“Don’t be a weirdo, Lance.” Pidge scoffed. “Matt’ll kill you if you steal his boy.”

“Matt isn’t here, nor is he going to find out, Pidgepodge.” Lance teased, but he didn’t try and kiss Shiro. Instead of the wall from before, he found Shiro’s mind carefully guarded by a flawless shield. It rippled when he glanced against it, but didn’t weaken.

This wasn’t a shield that could be weakened by force alone. It was made to flex rather than break. So Lance hummed to himself, thinking quickly.

“Come over here, guys.” He beckoned, “Touch his mind with me; don’t try and force anything, just... connect.”

“That makes no sense.” Keith frowned. “He’s out, he wont know we’re there.”

“Give it the old college try, Keith, don’t be an ass.” Lance huffed. The other’s exchanged a glance – Keith had a point – but tried.

Four minds touched Shiro’s, tentative. Keith felt impatient with the very concept. After a moment, Blue joined as well, guiding Yellow’s young mind.

Shiro didn’t stir in the least for a long moment. Then, in the very depths of his mind, there was a point of recognition.

 _Two dragons?_ Came the tentative question.

 _We’re worried about you. You’ve been out a long time._ Hunk pressed back gently.

 _Two dragons._ Shiro sounded so tired, but his shields were breaking down now. _Two... how long? Where are we?_

 _Mid-Hadarac, about 3 days? 4?_ Pidge provided.

_Headed southwest? Where?_

_Here, ish._ Keith flashed an image of the map, where they thought they were. A line appeared, following their approximate route. _Left Gil’ead in a rush._

 _Right direction._ There was filtering pause. Shiro was very tired. _Listen close. The shades poisoned me. There’s something in my system that needs Tunivor’s Nectar, and within the next 3, 4 days. I will have to remain unconscious as so, otherwise my death will be in hours instead._

 _Tunivor’s Nectar,_ They all repeated back.

 _Exactly. Keith, you are good with directions. Here is the path to the Varden._ His head filled with the image of the map, and a line following the Beor Mountains, into a valley. They had to follow a river to the head, and under a tall waterfall was the entrance to the Varden.

_Hunk, you are good with words. When you reach the end of Keith’s path, speak this_ _: ‘[Eka aí fricai un Shur'tugal](http://www.crouton.net)_ _’,_ _as you beat upon the wall with a rock. You must do so loud, and strong._

Hunk nodded. [Eka aí fricai un Shur'tugal](http://www.crouton.net) _._ _I will remember._

_Good. Now, most importantly, I cannot wake. Do not try and break into my mind again. I must spare no energy. If worst comes to worse, let me pass. I will feel no pain unconscious. Stay together. Be good. Luck be with us, I will see you all again soon._

They were all left in the pre-dawn air, shivering, as Shiro sank back under his mental shield.

“How did you guess that he wanted all of us there?” Pidge finally asked.

“Seemed like Shiro.” Lance shrugged. His hand found a nearby dragon to scratch. Yellow chirped up at him curiously.

“We...” Keith swallowed hard. He had the directions now. “We should get some sleep while we can. We have a long way to go.”

They started out again just before noon. None of them had slept much. Shiro was perched back up on Blue, covered in a blanket to protect him better from the sun and wind. A quick pace covered over a league every hour. By dark, there was a dark line on the horizon that indicated mountains.

By dawn, the line had turned into peaks. They had to stop to water the horses, and rest for a few spare hours. Then they rode again.

The horses were slowly slowing down, exhausted with the pace and the lack of food. And then, when it was nearly dark again, the five of them all perked up, and surged forward.

Above them, the mountains were continuing to grow. They’d surpassed the size of the Spine hours ago. They all breached the clouds, vanishing. One mountain was wider at the base than three in the Spine. The trees that lined the massive rock walls were equally massive.

But they were trees. Which meant there was foliage for the horses, and water that wasn’t buried, and potentially game to hunt. Hunk was silently dreading the size of the fauna if the flora and environment was so ridiculously large.

But their horses hurried to the food, hastening their trip. They broke for a rest once tan sand had faded into emerald green grass.

A fire was lit, and Blue vanished once unloaded. She returned with a pair of rather average sized deer. One was gifted to the humans, and the other she shared with Yellow.

And they all slept, for a good few hours, now that they were free of the pressing heat and dryness of the desert. They had to get up, and continue soon – Shiro depended upon it – but they too would collapse if pushed too far.

They started out west just as the sun was headed in the same direction. Keith sat in his saddle, fumbling the map smooth. It was hard to pinpoint the exact mountain that was the mountain they wanted to turn at. They were all alike from so low.

“Lance.” He finally gave up.

“No.” Lance stuck out his tongue.

“Fine.” Keith huffed. _Blue, where’s this mountain on the end of the opening to the valley._

“I could’ve done that-”

 _But you didn’t._ Blue chuckled. She tipped her wings, and soared a little higher, dropping out of Keith’s range of mental contact. Lance watched her closer.

“She says it’s this one. But there are many miles around the base of the mountain. We should pick up the pace.”

“The horses are still pretty worn.” Hunk grimaced. Yellow cheeped happily from in beside him on Shiro’s mare. “It would be dangerous to rush them too much.”

“She could take him ahead.” Lance offered. “Send Pidge with him and the password.”

“He said stay together.” Pidge countered. “They might not let more than one group in every so often or something?”

Lance rolled his eyes. “I’m sure he would have mentioned that?”

“He was kind of in a hurry.” Keith interrupted. “I’m sure there were lots of things he would have told us, but couldn’t.”

“Stay together is the fastest way to say that.” Pidge agreed.

“We only have one more day, though... ish.” Lance frowned. “The Varden are the good guys, right? They’d have to forgive an emergency breach.”

“We should stay together.” Hunk took sides. “If it looks like we’re nowhere close by tomorrow at dawn, we can send Blue ahead. But not before.”

Lance sighed. If Hunk was insisting, then he would listen. Blue would standby in the meantime. Shiro was no longer heavy on her wings, so it wasn’t a rush. She circled lazily, staying over top them with ease.

But she pulled up short when she spotted something in the far distance.

 _I may have to revise my current standing._ She informed Lance.

 _Sup?_ He asked, looking up for her.

_There are little horned men in the desert. Except these are not the little ones like before. They are quite big horned men. They run fast through the sand._

Lance frowned for a moment, then squawked. He urged his horse into a jog with a kick.

“We’ve got company on our tail. Urgals. Big, fast ones!” He announced. That was all the encouragement they needed, and the pace quickened. The horses stopped questioning the idea when the wind shifted, drenching the entire area in the reek of unwashed Urgal warriors.

Blue kept pace, even once Hunk passed up Yellow to lighten the load on them. She kept low, spurring the horses with a growl if they started to slow too much. The Urgals were still going, untiring, at the same quick pace.

They circled into the valley towards the end of the day, as fog started to roll up over the valley from the water. Beartooth River was thick and fast, and they followed it after a very brief rest for water.

Night was dark and thick without the moon to light the thick fog. Keith took the lead, following the river on the north shore. Blue was their lookout, in case of the loss of a shore to ride along, but nothing came up.

Dawn was rising, when they reached the valley within the valley, towards the falls Keith had been shown. They were miles away yet. But they were determined.

The horses were going to need a lot of TLC and rest. Fear was about the only thing keeping them from collapsing. Urgals were getting closer and closer, they could hear the clatter of armor and weapons behind them.

Blue was starting to panic, far above them. They were far too close for comfort. Lance glanced backwards, and he could see their pursuers personally.

 _Blue, go, go!_ He urged, and his group clamored agreement.

 _I will not leave you alone!_ She snapped in return. She whipped around, and despite her precious cargo, she dove at the urgal warriors, a bone-chilling roar splitting the valley. They had the sense to falter at the noise, but then she was under fire from spears and arrows, and had to flee before she or her cargo was damaged.

It gave them a half mile of breathing room, but it wouldn’t last.

Keith pointed out the wall the moment it came into sight. “That one, Hunk! This side of the falls!”

Hunk nodded, and pulled ahead. He had to dismount for the last dozen meters, snatching up a rock as he went.

The rest of the group turned and drew weapons, wild-eyed with fear, as Blue landed behind Hunk. They stood no chance in a fight, but it was all they could.

“[Eka aí fricai un Shur'tugal](http://www.crouton.net)!” Hunk screeched, pounding the stone so hard it crumbled after a couple blows. “[Flygja nosu](http://www.crouton.net)! [Eka aí fricai un Shur'tugal](http://www.crouton.net)! [Líka](http://www.crouton.net)!”

An arrow hit the stone beside him, missing by only a few inches. Hunk jolted back, surprised, and stumbled over a rock. When his shoulder hit the falls, hundreds of feet of falling water grabbed him, and dragged his form into the icy river before he could scream.

Lance saw him go, and it was his cry that drew attention to his felled friend.

Hunk sank like a rock, pushed along by the current, but sinking faster. He tried, and failed to rise to the surface, arms paddling wildly.

Lance abandoned the fight, leaping off his horse into the deep, icy pool. The cold threatened to do him in with the same ferocity as it was doing to Hunk. How many times had he bathed in icy waters before, though? It was refreshing, really, as he grasped Hunk, and pulled him up to the surface, through frothing current. They were now on the wrong side of the falls, but he took up the beating and calling, as Hunk found his breath.

Urgals were closing in, tighter and tighter. Lance couldn’t see the rest of their group. Blue could be heard, unintelligible through his panic, as he assumed they were just all dying in droves under these horrific beasts.

Something grabbed him from behind. He screamed, grabbing Hunk. They were dragged into the stone behind the falls by strong arms, just as a sword slammed into the rocks where they’d just been.


	22. In which happening is a thong

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: No thongs were involved

Blue shoved her nose into Lance immediately. He was having a lovely panic attack, one to rival even Hunk’s nervous stomach. Keith was talking in the background, to him or another, he couldn’t tell. Hunk was slowly recovering nearby, but he was more used to panic, and the subsequent recovery.

Lance was eventually pulled into a hug by thin, familiar arms. Keith had him. He was safe. He clung to his brother gratefully.

When he finally did look up again, they were surrounded by dwarves and humans. He glanced at Keith, looking for answers.

“They have Shiro, he’s getting help.” Keith provided. “We have to stay here. Well, in the next room over. Until they can process us.”

“Okay.” Lance nodded. He pulled away, and stood shakily.

Keith stood beside him, and Blue pulled into his other side. Hunk was carrying Yellow, as they proceeded into the indicated room. It was completely empty, with one entrance and thereby exit. Easily guarded, until the Urgals outside were taken care of, and they could be processed.

Lance sank to the floor again, as soon as possible. He flopped against Hunk needily.

“Okay?” he asked of his larger friend.

“Mm.” Hunk nodded. “Thanks.”

“A’course. Know you swim like a rock.” Lance grinned, and passed out.

He woke hours later. They were still locked in the little, quiet room. His boots were off, displaying his bare feet, so they could be tipped upside-down off to the side. Hunk’s outer garments and boots had been set aside as well. They were drying, slowly.

“Nn... Hunk. I suddenly appreciate your post-nervous breakdown naps a lot more.”

“They take a lot out of people.” He agreed softly. Pidge was asleep against his other thigh, and Keith had clambered up onto Blue to take a nap.

 _Are you okay now, Mama?_ Blue asked softly. She sounded worried.

 _Yeah. Just got scared._ He admitted. Hunk nodded too. That was what he’d told her. Yellow just cheeped tiredly from between Blue and Keith.

They sat there another few hours, as the rest of the group slowly woke up. Food was slid into the room eventually. A couple spitted chucks for the dragons, and several loaves of bread and cheese for the humans. They ate tiredly, shuffling closer together. A mass of worried, tired, stressed children.

They all jolted when the door opened, rising from their dozing. A dwarven woman stood in the doorway. She was dressed in a simple green frock and leggings. She grew a better beard than any of them could currently, coiling it into twists and braids. Behind her was a slightly larger, somewhat older dwarven man. He was desperately trying to pull her back out of the room, but she was having none of it, clearly telling him off despite the thick dwarven language.

“Those ones gave no comfort, not even dried garments with which to rerobe. Had this one not brought food they would yet sit hungry. These ones have waited patiently, and the night through. They ought not sit much longer – they are not prisoners.” She switched abruptly to english. The man looked offended.

“These ones are intruders in our home,” He snapped in return. “And they are prisoners, for those ones to inspect and judge, without interruption or intervention. We must away before further punishment arrives. You are already treading upon thinest of cracked ice, bringing these ones within before the clearance was given.”

“Yes because this one is supposed to let the Argetlamí perish at the hands of Urgals when so close to safety.”

“More Argetfótro.” The man huffed. The humans watched the exchange warily. But the male didn’t deny that saving them was the right thing to do.

“We’re thankful you saved us. I didn’t want to die.” Lance offered when their arguing turned into a silent battle of wills. “And thank you for the food.”

“Were it up to this one, you would already be bedded, and fed properly.” The woman offered a weak, tired smile. Her companion scoffed. “This one is named Shay. And this one, my brother, Rax.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet both of you.” Lance grinned, that show stopping, winning smile of his. Rax wasn’t impressed, though, and Shay’s smile just relaxed into something more genuine. “I’m Lance, male pronouns, Blue is my dragon, female pronouns. Then there’s Keith, male, Pidge, neutral, and Hunk, male. Yellow is Hunk’s dragon, neutral.” He indicated each as he introduced them.

“This one is using of the female pronoun, and that one the male.” Shay clarified. “This one is going to go and harass those of the Varden. Waiting has continued long enough; this one is unimpressed with the treatment of guests.”

She vanished back out of the room. Rax grimaced in her wake.

“This one would thank you to conveniently forget these one’s names should concern be raised.” He warned, and vanished after his sister. They exchanged worried glances between them.

They weren’t left waiting very much longer.

“No, we’re supposed to wait on The Twins! They’re better at this than I am.” Shay pushed a tall, thin man into the room. “I’m hardly a high-standing member of Du Vrangr Gata! I won’t- Argetlamí! Forgive the wait! There isn’t an available magic user to perform the processing! Please, Shay-”

“This one is named Rolo.” She introduced him. “This one is able to do this magicking he speaks of.”

“Thank you, Shay. For the vote of confidence! I’d really rather wait on- Nyma! Thank goodness!” A taller, younger looking woman strode in. Her violet eyes searched the children, before resting on Rolo.

“Why the rush, Shay? They do not require medical attention. We have many who need tending. They did bring a whole army onto our doorstep, an army that took 12 lives to destroy, and countless injuries.” She did not sound cruel, only straight-forward. “And as Rolo said, we are waiting on conference from The Twins.”

Shay pouted up at the human woman. She had to switch to dwarven, to complete her thoughts into vocalization. Nyma listened, as Rolo waited. Finally, she nodded.

“Rolo, go try the mirror again. If they don’t answer, return to the infirmary. I’ll make quick work of these ones. Go back to your station, Shay, before your brother explodes.”

She nodded, and left once Rolo had.

Nyma smiled tiredly when they were alone. “Sorry about that.”

“It’s fine.” Lance grinned. He’d ramped up the flirt to max. Nyma’s smile found a bit more energy at the extra affection in his assurance.

“Now, before we allow new members to the Varden, we search their minds. If we find something suspicious, we wipe out the location and passwords, the faces and names that are learned, and set you free in the wilderness with only yourselves and what you came with.” She explained. “Will you consent to having your minds searched?”

“Sure,” Lance answered too fast. Pidge, Hunk and Keith all frowned at the thought, though.

“It’s necessary?” Keith grimaced.

“Yes, unfortunately. The last thing we need is spies and assassins hiding in our midst.” She approached. Lance went red when her hand rested on his shoulder. Wowie, an actual girl, actually touching him!

“I don’t like the idea of this. I have my secrets, I don’t want them advertised.” Pidge stared up at the woman suspiciously. Hunk’s gut was telling him not to trust this. Her. Anxiety rose up sharply with the distrust.

“Unfortunately there is no negotiation at this point.” She insisted. “I can give you more time to think. I have lots of healing to manage as is.”

“A couple hours would be great.” Hunk blurted. Only Lance disagreed, but Lance could be bargained with.

“Very well.” She nodded and turned. Her departure was as quick as her arrival was.

“Wow, Hunk. Rude.” Lance grumped.

“I don’t trust her. My gut says she’s bad news.” He informed them. That rose brows from the other two.

“She wasn’t acting suspicious or anything.” Pidge frowned. “I just don’t want her in my head.”

“Same.” Keith valued his head-space. It was his, and no one really intruded on it, barring Lance’s entire existence. Hunk frowned in return.

“My gut’s never wrong.”

“Your gut has been acting up since the Teirm Urgals, Hunk, you told me so.” Pidge reminded him. “I’m sure it’s just reacting to more stress.”

“I know, but-” He trusted his gut, even if it was hypersensitive and troubled at times. Then he sighed. “Fine. I don’t like her though, and I doubt that will change.”

“We’ll see.” Lance reached over to pat his knee.

“There’s not a way to protect my brain, is there?” Pidge huffed. “Blue?”

 _I could do it for Lance, but unfortunately, me in your head would attract more attention than disway it._ She replied. _Lance, you picked up on that thought from her, right?_

“Oh, right, yeah.” He nodded. “Something about keeping secrets?”

 _She had no intention of broadcasting anything she found in us._ Blue clarified. _I’m sure if you’re pleasant enough, she’ll see reason, and leave you your leverage, Pidge._

“... What do you think Keith?”

“I don’t like people in my head. But if the rest of you will, I will too.” He shrugged. Yellow peeped happily, a sleepy ball of yellow scale.

Pidge sighed. “Fine.”

It took several hours for Nyma to return. “Well, we had no luck contacting the Twins. Have you decided?” She asked.

“We’re happy to let you have a boo.” Lance grinned. Hunk huffed. “Well, I am. They’re luke-warm at best. But consenting.”

She nodded, and approached. “Which of you first?”

“I’ll go. Just don’t start spewing anything you find.” Pidge offered, standing. Lance looked betrayed that he’d been beaten to the punch.

“Of course not.” She took their shoulders, and spoke a word. Pidge froze as their mind was breached by a thick metaphorical vine, spiked with thorns that ripped as they moved. It _hurt_.

They grimaced as their whole life flashed before their eyes, scene after scene. Memories that they didn’t recall having. Nothing convictable, obviously, but things Pidge would’ve rather kept secret entirely.

They were released soon after. Lance got to go next. Nyma shouldered his flirting thoughts in passing, but it still ached as she searched. At least Lance was forthcoming, so she didn’t have to reach and scrape as she had with Pidge.

Keith was between the two – reserved but not resistant. Hunk fell into the last place.

Nyma seemed to falter at his size and height. Something akin to recognition flashed in her eyes, but vanished before Hunk could study it.

He glared, but submitted. Pidge had been chock full of facts to sort through, but Hunk was a mess of feeling as well as the broad knowledge. His mind was expansive, even without considering the baby dragon.

It was rather impressive, actually.

And then it was done, the four children looking a little perturbed and tired, sore, but well.

“Done?” Rolo asked, opening the door just as she finished. “Good, the Princess is on my ass – we need to get these ones up to her PDQ. How many can your dragon carry, Argetlam Blár?”

“Who?” Pidge asked.

“Rider of the blue dragon.” Rolo clarified.

“One, maybe two,” Lance answered.

 _I could probably do all five of us if I don’t have to fly._ They offered.

 _No, that’d be pushing it._ He patted her nose. She tried to eat his hand again, but playfully. He booped her in return, before mounting. Keith was pulled up behind him, as honorary rock father. Rolo vanished, yelling something about two horses.

They were marched out of the small room, and into the main hall. Hunk and Yellow were placed on a horse, directly ahead of Lance, Blue, and Keith, and Pidge was popped on a second steed, to keep pace with their friends. Rolo jogged beside the horses, talking fast.

“There’s a crowd gathering, they’re excited at the idea of Argetlamí, just wave and smile, we’re late as is.” He advised.

 _Hey look at that, my star, you get a chance to show off, finally._ Lance teased. But she was giddy with the very thought, immediately. The fresh horses weren’t so forgiving of her antics, especially since one was burdened with a much smaller dragon.

Their march began, and quickly.

Their hall widened into a massive underground cavern. Someone had hollowed out this ginormous mountain and made an entire city within the space. A tower of rambling apartments and stairwells, all lit with flameless lanterns rose in the centre of the cavern, rising up to a massive, blue stone set in the roof. A star sapphire, probably a mile wide, and 10 above them. It was carved in the likeness of a rose, each petal visible from so far below.

Around them, hundreds of people gathered to watch them pass. Blue was ecstatic as human and dwarf alike marveled in her splendor. Women and men were equal in number, and all wore swords and daggers openly. They all showed signs of heavy fighting, and tiring wars, and the looks on their faces were pure hope. It was almost a little daunting for Lance.

Hunk was definitely regretting. He hugged Yellow close, much to their pleasure. The baby dragon wasn’t old enough to appreciate the attention of others outside their rider.

Eventually, though, they did pass beyond the hall, and into a smaller, quieter one. Here only a dozen people gathered, most of fairly obvious high ranking. They were dismounted, and led into yet smaller hall. Blue, had she been very much bigger, would not have fit.

They were stopped before lacquered oak doors. The doors were held for their entry to a well-furnished office. Their varying weapons and the chest the green egg was stowed in were set on a chest at the back of the room. A woman sat in a comfortable chair, reading through one of many missives that were stacked on her desk. Coran stood over her shoulder, reading a different one.

“Ah, you made it! Took you long enough!” Coran grinned under his mustache. The woman looked up, pushing her white locks out of her eyes.

“Greetings, Argetlamí, and friends. Please, sit, I’ll be with you in just a second.” She returned to her page. By the time they had settled, she had signed and discarded the sheet into an overfilled bin to the side. Coran grinned, and towed it away, leaving them. “Welcome to [Tronjheim](http://inheritance.wikia.com/wiki/Tronjheim). Was there a particular reason you were chased by over a hundred Kull?” She gave them her full attention.

“My dashing good looks, obviously.” Lance laid it on thick. Keith considered, but her tired look spared him the urge to smack Lance upside the head.

“Well, your dashing good looks cost 13 men their lives. Shall I send their grieving children and widows to you to tend, then?” She asked.

“I mean it could also have been Blue. She’s not exactly subtle.” He shied somewhat. Her expression softened ever so slightly.

“Blue, and what are the rest of our names?” She inquired. Her nails were perfectly manicured, but she still booped Yellow’s nose when the baby leaned over her desk to sniff at her.

“This is Yellow,” Hunk introduced the hatchling. “That may change, it’s just a placeholder until they can talk.”

“And the rest of you?” She hadn’t had a chance to be updated by Nyma or Rolo yet.

“Hunk Garrett.” He answered.

“Pidge Gunderson.” Pidge pulled their mother’s maiden name, rather than Holt, for their own reasons.

“Keith Kogane.”

“Lance McClain.”

“I am Princess Allura, Leader of the Varden. It is a pleasure to meet you all.” She bowed her head gently. “Despite your disastrous arrival, we have much to thank you for. The return of the green egg, from Zarkon’s hands for one, as well as the rescue of Takashi Shirogane. We are glad to have you here.”

“Is Shiro okay?” Pidge asked.

“He’s going to recover fine. The antidote was administered in time, but he will need a few days bed rest to recover properly.” She explained gently. “He is a close friend of yours?”

“Yes. He’s a family friend of most of Carvahall.” Pidge nodded.

“Carvahall... That sounds- just a second.” She dipped behind her desk, and pulled a worn journal from her many desk-drawers. She flipped through tightly scrawled pages in a hurry. She seemed to find what she was looking for.

“General Iverson sent us down, with Shiro.” Hunk offered.

“Iverson?” Allura frowned, skimming the page again. “I don’t have a record of Iverson in that sleeper cell.” She hummed contemplatively, then shrugged. “Oh well, 50 years and a change of command changes things some, I suppose. ”

“Sleeper cell?” Keith asked.

“Mm.” She didn’t answer that any better. “Anyways, I’ll have rooms set up for you. Once Shiro’s awake, I’ll have him run down what he’s taught you, and we can start planning to ship you to the elves once we’re there.” She dismissed them with a wave of her hand. She was going to have to read through her notes again, and update the outdated ones.

“Can we have our weapons back?” Keith asked.

“Go for it. Careful with the egg.” She nodded, finding a pen blindly, and starting a new page of notes.

Coran was grinning up a storm when they exited the office, rearmed. “She likes you!”

“Her desk is a disaster.” Pidge stated, unimpressed. “How does she keep track of anything?”

“Skill.” He plucked his collar, then turned on his heel. “So I’ve opted to keep you together, since Yellow hasn’t the ability to rise to the dragon keep yet. Blue can, of course, go up – it’s above Isidar Mithrim if you’re interested dear – but in the meantime, I’ve set up rooms in the lower levels where the rooms are bigger.

“I’ll find someone to be your guide in a bit; someone will bring dinner around shortly. There should be baths drawn and ready, as well as fresh garments. Yes, there will be meat for both you Bjartskulya!” Coran opened several doors. They were tall enough to allow for their dragons.

As promised, hot baths waited in the humble, if large, rooms. Hot baths, and fresh clothes, and real beds.


	23. Fite

Sleep for the next week, at the very least. Or at least that was Lance’s plan. He needed his beauty sleep, and a few more baths, and he could pass as human again.

No such luck, however. There was a knocking at his door at some ungodly hour. It was probably actually fairly reasonable, but to him it was far too early, far too soon.

Rax stood outside the door, looking grumpy. “Queen Balmara requests your presence at once, Argetlam.” He stated.

“Right now right now, or can I put clothes on?” He asked.

“This one cares not if you would make a fool of yourself before the Queen.” He shrugged, and moved onto the next door. Hunk answered blearily, and received the same message.

Lance considered, then put his clothes on. Good impressions were a must. He joined Hunk and Rax in the hall when he was ready. Blue took Yellow, content to go back to sleep for now. Mocking Lance with the fact that she could.

The Queen’s office was a few doors down from Allura’s. The corridor leading up to the doors were lines with statues of dwarves in varying eras of dress. Each sat on a marble throne, watching over the door and the office. There were more inside the large, circular office.

The woman at this desk was an ancient being, with wrinkles in her wrinkles. But her crystal-clear blue eyes peered out at them with great wisdom and kindness. Her hair was yet brown as deep earth, coiled into an intricate braided bun. Her throne was solid marble, just like those of the statues. She wore a steel breastplate, adorned with a crystal and three stars.

“Welcome to my Kingdom, Argetlamí. I am Queen Balmara, of Clan Ingeitam.” She greeted. Her voice betrayed none of her age; it was as clear as crystal. “You have traveled with great speed and tribulation, I hear. Are the accommodations satisfactory?”

“Yes, thank you.” Hunk nodded. Lance followed suit. Other than the rude awakening, that is.

“That is excellent to hear. Tronjheim is a glorious city, with many sights to see. I would offer mine own person to display these sights for you, however I am not as young as I once was, and I fear that war is close at hand. It would be improper of me to abandon my duties,” She spoke slowly, at times. “Would you forgive me the discretion, if I was to offer my grandchildren to the duty instead?”

“Of course, your Majesty.” Lance spoke this time. “We understand completely.”

“That gladens me. Children.” She clapped once, and the door behind them opened again. Rax and Shay stood together, both wearing the same breastplate as the queen. “I chose these two, Rax and Shay, as they are of the guard that allowed you entry. I trust your keeping to them.”

“Greetings, again, Argetlamí. It is these ones’ pleasure to serve you.” Shay bowed. Rax let his sister do the talking, though he bowed as easily.

“Thank you- It- I.” Hunk faltered, colour rising to his cheeks. “Thank you for- um-”

“Thank you for rescuing us, out there. Is what he’s trying to phrase right.” Lance came to the rescue. “It’s a pleasure to see you again.”

“O-of course. It would be this one’s shame if an Argetlam were to fall when one could have intervened. It was the least this one could do.”

The queen laughed behind them, a bright, pealing laughter that filled the room and halls. She spoke in dwarfish next, giving rise to a flush from both her grandchildren. “Go, Argetlamí, enjoy my kingdom and its fruits.” She bid brightly.

“Thank you, your Majesty.” The humans bowed politely, and exited the hall.

Rax scowled when they’d left the queen behind. He muttered something, to which his sister punched him lightly on the shoulder.

“Where would you like to stray first, Argetlamí?” He finally asked.

“You really don’t have to call us that.” Hunk started after a moment. “I’m Hunk, this is-”

“Lance, Yes, you’ve said, Argetlamí.” Rax grumbled. “Where is this one taking you?”

“I wanna go back to bed.” Lance admitted after a moment.

“C’mon, Lance we’re already up. We should do something productive with this time.”

“My pores, Hunk.” They were headed back to their quarters, all the same.

“Will survive another day.” He clasped his shoulder. “We should feed the dragons, then see if Keith’s up for hitting people with sticks.”

“I can always go for hitting Keith with a stick.” Lance conceded after a moment.

“The training grounds, then?” Shay asked gently.

“If you wouldn’t mind showing us where the kitchens are, so we could beg something to eat as well, we’d be very appreciative.” Hunk said.

“You are Argetlamí, Sir Hunk. There will be no need for begging.” Shay assured gently.

A hot meal roused all but Pidge, who was genuinely comatose for the next few hours at least. Hunk had to explain they had a sleeping issue, where they’d fail to sleep for up to a week, then catch up all at once. They didn’t need a physician, it was just their quirk.

Shay looked uncertain at best. But allowed it, for now.

Keith was more than happy to hit them with ‘sticks’ – they’d slacked the last weeks. It showed, according to him. It made him grin, though, when Lance found a second wind, and caught his bare knuckles with an actual practice blade.

Hunk felt the need to apologize for Keith’s swearing. The dwarves watching just laughed at the attempt. More when the largest human looked nervous at fighting the much smaller human.

“C’mon Hunk.” Keith encouraged. He switched hands, so that his bloody knuckles couldn’t cost him his grip.

“Nope, nope, we’ve discussed this-” Hunk tried to back out.

Keith sighed, then padded over to the bin of varying equipment. There was an old leather helm towards the bottom. It barely fit, but it worked.

“There. You can’t take anymore of my teeth now.”

“There are _many_ other things you could loose.”

“Get in the ring, you chicken!” Lance teased, shoving him into the arena.

“I feel so betrayed.” Hunk announced, but finally accepted the practice sword. He took stance, all nerves and rolling stomach. Keith waited, in the same pose. His wooden sword looked threatening enough.

His fight was short lived. He proved far too strong for even the wood that Varden and Dwarf trained with alike. The gathered laughed and cheered as he reduced the stick to splinters. Keith sighed.

“You really need something that’ll hold up.”

“Here, here.” Rolo appeared out of the crowd. He was carrying a real sword, blunted from many uses, and reduced to training new users. Hunk swallowed hard as dull, hard steel was put in his hands. “Do you want a blunted blade too, Keith?”

“I’ve got a sword I use,” He replied drawing it. Rolo received it when he asked.

“I’m going to dull this, and I’ll fix it when you’re done training. Is that okay?”

“Sure?” Keith didn’t understand how.

“Gëuloth du knífr!” Rolo commanded, and a purple spark appeared in his hand. He ran it down the edges of Keith’s blade, and when he took it back, it was though it had been dipped in invisible wax. He couldn’t cut himself if he tried. Couldn’t even touch the edge.

“Thanks.” He gave it a practice swing, and found the balance unmarred. Magic was actually useful. Hunk frowned, concerned. But he raised his naturally blunted blade, and retook position.

It was harder with real swords. They were a little heavier. Not enough to actually feel heavy to Hunk, but he registered the difference at least.

Lance watched with glee. The swords were tougher, though the sword Hunk held was going to bend beyond repair. Rax was watching with furrowed brows, as though he was reminded of something. Shay just looked happy to watch something more interesting than a waterfall and deserted valley pool.

“Oi, S’not a hammer!” An old, female dwarf suddenly yelled. “It’s a sword, use it like a sword!”

“Keith, I genuinely do not know the difference!” Hunk admitted.

“I know you don’t!” He started to continue, then paused. “Wait, I know the difference.”

“Keith.” Hunk still had a sword in hand, and no idea how to use it.

“Give me a sec,” He pulled away, twisting his own sword through the air. He switched back to his other hand, working his way through a fairly complex shadow-dance. He pondered the motions. “Okay.”

“Keith.” Hunk encouraged, lowering his sword. He was not good at this. He was willing to go back to making the blades, not using them.

“No no, I’ve got you.” Keith took a spot beside Hunk, rather than before him. “I’m an idiot who didn’t notice before. You gotta strike around the target, not on the target, get me?”

“Like around the guard? Or around the blade?”

“Um,” Keith considered. “Depends. Hold the blade like this.” He returned to his starting stance. “Keep your other hand behind you.”

“Okay.” Hunk sounded less than certain.

“I’ve only just graduated nails, bare with me. So when you fight, you follow the movey bit, right? Just like when you fold the metal?”

“Mm.” He nodded. “Strike, push back.”

“Instead, aim for the core. The melty bit will try and get you. Strike. Sweep. Turn the blade to block. Use the side of the hammer to pause the melty bit.”

“Okay.” He was more certain.

“On guard.” Keith moved to face him again. Hunk considered, trying to focus on both Keith’s arm, and his chest. “Strike.” He pushed his sword slowly through the motion, aiming central. “Sweep.” Again, slowly, aiming central. “Block.”

“Strike. Sweep. Block.” Hunk followed suit. They danced in a circle, moving through the slow motions, aiming.

“Boring, kick his ass Hunk!” Lance finally called out when they’d danced like so nearly ten rotations.

“Fight!” Another dwarf called, and soon it was a growing crowd of people begging for an actual exchange.

“Ready to pick up the pace, Hunk?” Keith asked.

“Absolutely not.” He did so anyways, trying not to fall back into his hammer-like blows.

Keith nodded, and matched him. There, finally Hunk was not going through swords like cheese. Shiro would be proud.

“What’d I miss?” Pidge arrived, finally, dropping down next to Lance with a yawn.

“Hunk figured out what he was fucking up.” Lance shrugged, chewing a nail. “Our fat, gassy genius is growing up, Pidgie~!”

“About time.” They complained. “Nice hat Keith!”

“Shut it! You’re next!” Keith retorted, grinning in spite of himself. Hunk was a fairly decent opponent when he was on the right track. He made up a lot of skill with raw strength alone.

“I’m quivering in my undersized boots!” Pidge jibed back.

“Shut up, I’m trying to focus, guys!”

“Ignore them, kick Keith’s butt!” Lance crowed.

“Ignore them, I’m winning!” Keith interjected.

“No, no, Yield! That’s enough for today!” Hunk flailed his sword wildly, panicking now that he was distracted. Keith ducked it, and laughed aloud as he tacked Hunk’s ribs. Hunk went down with an ungainly yelp.

Yellow hopped into the field, growling as they stepped on Hunk’s fallen face to nip at Keith. Keith went down under the assault of a baby dragon, still laughing at the baby nips and head-butts.

Shay clambered down into the pit with a grin. “We are all knowing the winner of this battle! Presenting, Yellow Bjartskular!”

Yellow looked up at their name, blinking widely. Hunk had recovered enough to lift the dragon from Keith, rising the baby upwards with victory. There was cheering, because what a cutie.

They released a tiny, babyish roar in response, much to everyone’s amusement. Hunk grinned, and returned to Lance’s side with Yellow. Keith chuckled as he brushed himself off.

“Okay, Pidge, your turn.”

“Hey, if a dragon that size can take you out, I don’t have to prove anything!” They shook their head.

“Get out there, smart ass.” Lance prodded them in the side. Pidge huffed, and charged in, stealing Hunk’s sword. Keith met them halfway, taking advantage of the heavier sword in smaller hands.

“Sure about this, Pidgepodge?” He teased.

“I’ll gut you with your own teeth!” They retorted.

“Big words! Little arms!” He danced away, only to meet them again. The crowd around them was happy to watch this fight too, though there were no dragon riders in the ring. Spirited children were amusing.

Hunk was happy to rest as Pidge took a beating. Shay still had Yellow, scratching the little dragon with bright eyed wonder. Hunk noticed eventually, reaching out to pat Yellow as well.

 _Good job, protecting me._ He approved. He received a warm flash of pride, which quickly dissolved into approval at the pets.

“This one is very small yet. Does a dragon grow very fast?” Shay asked under the clamour.

“I think so. I mean, Blue’s already grown a few feet in the last few weeks since I met her. I imagine Yellow will grow fast too.” He indicated the blue dragon watching Pidge and Keith fight with twitching whiskers.

“Blue and Yellow. These ones’ names are fitting.” She smiled warmly. Hunk chuckled – they were. “This one will have to be a great beast indeed, to match this one who rides.”

“Oh,” Hunk went red at the compliment. “Thanks...”

“This one is most welcome.” Shay was a little red as well. “Can this one ask another question of Shur'tugal Hunk?”

“Sure?” Yellow wiggled half free of Shay, placing their other half in Hunk’s lap, forcing them to sit closer together. He moved to affectionate the dragon automatically.

“What is the sky outside like? This one watches Kóstha-mérna regularly, but the outcropping hides the sky proper.”

“You’ve never been outside before?”

“Grandmother worries herself, the greater outdoors is beholden with many a threat, she says.” Shay explained. “This one is a poor granddaughter, to wonder in want of wandering, where this one is forbidden. But this one cannot shake the thoughts.”

“Oh... um.” Hunk considered, then closed his eyes. His mind glanced against hers gently. She had very impressive shields. When they relaxed, he passed a memory of the broad sky above the world, as he’d seen it leaving Carvahall the first time as a journeyman.

It was a bittersweet memory, to him, but still stuck in his mind. The world was so much bigger than the tiny town he’d left behind, so much bigger than anything he’d seen thus far.

When he opened his eyes, there were tears in Shay’s eyes. He rushed to apologize, but she waved it off.

“It is so glorious-” She faltered. Rax was giving him the stink-eye from several people over. He was probably sitting too close to his sister.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to-” He started again. She shoo her head, and hugged him best she could with small arms and a lap full of dragon.

“It was beautiful,” She assured. “Thank you, Hunk.”

* * *

“You made the pretty dwarf girl cry, Hunk. Good job.” Lance clapped his back once they were back in their quarters. “Truly a Casanova of our generation.”

“Rude.” Hunk shoved him back. “I didn’t mean to. She asked to see the sky, so I showed her one of my memories. I didn’t realize it would bring on the waterworks.”

“You made a pretty girl _cry_ with the _sky_?” Lance demanded. “It’s right there, everywhere! What, has she never seen it before?”

“Never, apparently. Being the granddaughter of the Queen apparently means she can’t go anywhere dangerous? Like above ground, where Zarkon might be, I guess?”

“I-” Lance paused.

“That makes sense.” Pidge commented. “Blue, stop being so fat, I want to sit on the bed too.”

 _No._ She stretched out further, displacing all four humans at once. Yellow cheeped protest, clambering up next to her head on the pillows. The bed creaked dangerously.

 _Don’t break it, love._ Lance just offered weakly.

“Rude as shit. Hunk. Your new girlfriend deserves flowers for the accidental tears!”

“She said it was fine!” He protested immediately. “Also, not my girlfriend! She’s just a Kurlna I admire, who is also here to help us around.”

“A Curl-what?” Keith demanded.

“When I passed the memory I accidentally brushed against her mind. Kurlna is just the dwarf term for Dwarf.” Hunk provided.

“Nice. Pick up anything else, you chick magnet you?”

“Shut up Lance.” He went red, embarrassed.

“Shut up, Lance. No, Lance needs the deets. This is Hunky-bear’s first big crush, and Mama Lance needs to help his beautiful son find what his heart desires~!” Lance wrestled Hunk into a hug, trying to display his secrets.

“Lance, no.” Hunk prodded his ribs.

“Lance Yes~!” He grinned.

“Lance, no!” Hunk was dying of embarrassment now, thanks. He fell over, forcing Lance to release him, and scramble free before his greater weight crushed his thin frame.

Keith and Pidge exchanged a glance, when broke down giggling at their antics.


	24. Simba remember who you are

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((!CONTENT WARNING!!)) Stages of loss/Grief

Shiro woke gasping for air. His body came alive in a screaming rush of nerves, all sore and mistreated. He yelled his discomfort, straining against the restraints that held him immobile. A familiar face appeared over him very quickly.

“Ah, Shiro, welcome back!” Coran grinned. “You gave us quite a scare there!”

“Wha- Oh, Coran, thank god.” He panted, flopping back against his pillows. “It felt like a bad dream. Are the Kids okay?”

“Yes, they made Farthen Dûr just fine. A little spooked. But an army of Kull is nothing to sneeze at.” Coran grinned. “I’ve heard you don’t like restraints, but I’m leaving you in them another couple hours til you catch up, yes?”

“I understa- wait, Farthen Dûr? Kull? We were in- Oh god.” Shiro was very glad for the restraints. “Okay, fill me in.”

“You recall Tierm last?” Coran took a seat beside him, taking his hand gently.

“We were... just leaving.” He sighed. “We had to find the gold egg. In the pink sandstone.”

“Correct. Now, I haven’t interrogated your children yet, so I don’t have every detail. Nyma does, but I’ve been busy besides. Couldn’t read that report personally.”

“Basics are fine. Some things will probably come back.”

“Good to hear. So you were captured. Lotor, by the marks on your back. Lovely scars those are, by the way. Colourful and intricate. You were rescued by your children. They then fled across the desert to here, apparently chased by an army of Kull warriors.”

“Desert... They woke me up, just briefly. Enough that I could tell them about the nectar.”

“Correct.”

“They both found and got the Golden egg to hatch.”

“For Hunk, yes.” Coran nodded, smoothing the skin of his hand. “Anything else?”

“I was... captured. By Urgals? They cornered us in the cave we’d camped in. Blue rescued the kids. But by the time they came back for me, I was taken. I thought I was dead.

“Then... yes. Lotor, he wanted the Blue egg. Apparently Klaizap found it, and sent it away when Lotor went after him.” Shiro closed his eyes. The memories were blurry at best. “Klaizap is... I think Klaizap was killed in that encounter.”

“A terrible loss, for us and the elven nation.” Coran bowed his head.

“Why does my arm hurt so much? You’re on the left hand, you stand on the right. Did I break it?” Shiro tried to flex it, but nothing happened.

“Lotor removed it.” Coran stated honestly. “Hence the restraints.”

“He removed it?” Shiro gasped. “No, the Hag did! The hag has my arm!” He was stopped from sitting up. “Coran I need that back! The hag took my arm!’

“Easy, easy Shiro. I’m sorry, but it’s been too long. I’m a mechanic, not a miracle worker.” Coran apologized. “Even if we got it back right now, I cannot reattach limbs outside an hour.”

“But my arm-” He gasped.

“We’ll find you something to help. For now you need to relax, and let yourself heal.” Coran soothed.

“My arm.” He whined, remaining hand clenching against Coran’s. He could feel it now. The burning nerves at the end of the stump, and nothing more than air beyond.

“I heard screaming?” A female voice asked outside the door.

“Allrua?” Shiro tried to sit up again. “Allura, please. I need to go find my arm.”

“Coran-” The princess entered the room, a sweeping mass of hair and gown. Coran sighed softly.

“He’s still working on the denial stage, my dear.” He announced.

“Oh, Shiro.” She sighed in return, approaching him on his right side. He stared up at her wildly. No, no sorrow, no grief, no denial. He needed out of these restraints, and he needed to go get his arm. “Be calm, Shiro. You’re no less of a man because you fought your battles, and came back to me.”

“Allura, you don’t understand.” He tried again. The restraint around his hips was loosening.

“Then tell me.” She encouraged, taking a seat in a chair, resting a hand on his chest. “Talk to me, Shiro.”

“I’ve lost my arm.” He started. “I’ve lost it. And I must go find it. It’s probably in Uru’baen. I’ve not been there in months, I’m sure my stories will be fresh again.”

“And what would having your arm back again do, Shiro?” She asked.

“Well it’s mine.” He started. “It’s mine, I should have it. Maybe I can put it back on.”

“Can you? It could make you very sick.”

“Coran can fix anything.” He was feverish when she brushed his hair out of his eyes.

“Can he now?”

“Always has, always will.” Shiro sounded so sure. Coran took his distraction, and poured a glass of thick purple potion.

“I know, he’s such a miracle worker, isn’t he? Are you in pain, Shiro?” She asked gently. “Does anything hurt?”

“My arm hurts. Down by the palm.” He groaned, grimacing.

“Here, some magic potion fresh from the Coranic.” Coran soothed, offering the glass. “Can you drink this for me, please?”

“I- yeah.” His eyes were loosing focus. Allura was pretty sure this was shock. Coran got him to drink down the potion. His harsh breathing leveled out after a moment, as he fell back into sleep.

“Poor Shiro.” She stroked his cheek. “First his face, now his arm.”

“Mm. He’ll probably be out a few more hours at least, Allura. I’m sorry you had to see him like this.”

“I could help him calm down. That is more than I could ask.” She smoothed his hair out. “He’s not going to be happy, even so, when he wakes.”

“I’ll remove the restraints between now and then. That’ll help, in part.”

“Just don’t get punched. His left hook is just as lethal as his right.” She stood, and hugged Coran. “When should I notify the Shur'tugalar?”

“I’ll let you know, dear.” Coran smiled softly. “I want him through anger before he sees any of the little ones.”

“That is fair.” She nodded. “Call me when he wakes again.”

“Of course.”


	25. whoops

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which there is at least one (1) swear, and Keith is an ass

“So where did you learn to sword fight?” Rolo asked pleasantly as he removed his earlier casting from Keith’s sword.

“Shiro taught me.” Keith smiled lightly. “Him, and an ex-military man in my hometown.”

“That makes sense. You’re very good. Have you considered trying your hand against some of the Varden?”

“No, would they be willing? I’m not exactly soaking in titles like my friends.”

“This is a resistance, kid.” Rolo chuckled. “Anyone who can wield a sword is a boon. Sometimes moreso. Don’t take this as an insult – you’re doing your best – but your companions kind of suck at fighting.”

“They’re better with their bows.” Keith defended them casually. “They’ve only got a few weeks missmatched practice in. Hunk especially.”

“It was cool you picked out where he was going wrong, though.” Rolo passed back the blade. Keith was pleased to find it as sharp as it had been before it had been dulled.

“I did some smithing practice with his father, Solomon.” Keith sheathed his blade fondly. “I guess it paid off, to see both sides of that coin.”

“As in, Solomon Garrett?” Rolo asked, surprised.

“Yeah, you’ve heard of him?” Keith asked.

“Mm, he does good work. I bought a sword off him when he lived further south. Still have it, actually.” He unsheathed his short-sword. It was inscribed with runes and carved with a careful floral decal. “This is Beezer. Dumb name, I know, but he’s saved me more often than my magic.”

The light blue steel was light in Keith’s hands. “Wow, this is a beautiful sword.”

“Solomon does exceptional work in the smithy.” Rolo nodded. “Did he do yours too?”

“No, this is just a military grade spare I found in Carvahall.” Keith patted it. “If I need something that won’t fail me, I have my dagger instead.” He unsheathed it, and unwrapped the hilt with care. “Mr Garrett didn’t do this one either. I don’t know where it came from.”

Rolo handled the dagger carefully, turning it over in clear awe. “This is Elf work.”

“Elf work?” Keith frowned. “I thought elves were, like peaceful and stuff?”

“Oh, no. They avoid fights, but against one? Alagaësia’s greatest human fighter couldn’t take their smallest, weakest child in a fair fight.” Rolo shook his head. “You can tell, from the runes in the blade. This little guy is charmed to never dull or break, to shatter wards and evaporate other magical interferance.”

“I knew it didn’t dull or break. I’ve pulled some shit with it.”

“Would you like to know its name?” Rolo indicated the amethyst-studded engraving in the hilt.

“Sure?”

“Domia abr Könungar. Dominance of Kings.” Rolo read off. “I think this little blade has a promise tied into it.”

“Like it’s a kingslayer of sorts?”

“Maybe. I’ll look it up. Get back to you. It’s definitely Helgrind Amethyst in that, though. You’re smart to keep it bound.”

“I take it the stones are worth a pretty penny?”

“Much, much more than a pretty penny.” Rolo nodded.

“Well now I have even more questions.” Keith frowned at his dagger, then sheathed it once it was wrapped again.

“Like?”

“Ever heard of the Kogane family?” Keith asked. “They emptied a basket full of me and this, and ditched. Kinda want to know where I came from.”

“Mm, Kogane, Kogane... not ringing any bells. Here. I’ll show you the library. You seem like the kind of boy to know his runes.”

“I do.” Keith followed him willingly.

The Tronjheim library was a vast thing. Thousands of books, few in actual common, rising a hundred feet into the air. Massive ladders on wheels granted access to the highest shelves.

His eyes were bulging out of his face.

“There’s so many-” He started weakly.

“All the genealogy tomes are in that blue section on the second floor. Start there for family. I’ll have to scour the whole lot for a dagger though. Swords are organized and cataloged, but not their lesser companions, apparently.” Rolo huffed, and vanished into the mess of books. Keith found his way up to the genealogy section, and remained there.

Lance found him hours later, surrounded by tomes he’d already searched.

“Never took you for the scholarly type.” He commented wryly. He had a book under his arm, something about dragons.

“Wasn’t aware you knew your runes.” Keith sniped back, returning to his book.

“You stole that insult from Iverson.”

“And?” Keith cocked a brow.

“Well, it hurts. You hurt me.” Lance touched his chest, the picture of emotional injury.

“Sucks to be you, I guess.” Keith shrugged, and turned a page.

“But no seriously, what’s got you reading every book in the room?” Lance plopped down beside him. He hefted a tome from a stack he guessed was an already read stack.

“Bringing back a dead cat.” Keith replied mildly, flipping the page again.

“Sorry, what?” Lance frowned, peering into a random chapter. A family tree of Petersons stared out at him, listing people a hundred years dead. “Wait, Keith, are you starting with that whole dumb ‘who am I’ stick again?”

“Shut up, Lance.” Keith huffed. “I’m trying to read.”

“You’re hurting our family, you know.” Lance started. “We love you; kinda smarts that you want to give your attention and affection to fuckheads. Fuckheads that couldn’t even abandon you humanely. Over people who spent 18 years raising you without a damn care as to who shoved you out of their uterus.”

“It’s my right to know where I came from.” He grumbled.

“It’s Mama’s right to get some respect and recognition from her children.” He countered.

“Why can’t you just fuck off Lance?” Keith finally snapped. “Just fuck right off! You couldn’t fit half of what it feels like through that _thimble_ of a head you’ve got.”

Lance spluttered. It was amazingly apparent he’d struck a nerve. "Okay, I have been patient as fuck with you thus far, Keith! But enough is enough!"

"It's my life, Lance! I can do what I want with it!"

"No! You can't! Mama gave up 18 years of her fucking life to raise you. She didn't care that you aren't the fruit of her womb! She loves you! You're her son! When she told you? It was because she thought you had the right to know!" Lance didn't let Keith have a word in besides. "You're hurting her! Hurting the family!"

"But they're not my family!" Keith interrupted. "You didn't have it fucking dumped on you that your whole fucking life was a god damned fucking _Lie_!"

"Her fucking love for you wasn't. Our love for you fucking wasn't. Not one of us fucking cared as far as Oliver can throw you; you're our brother, you always were, always would have been, had you not decided we weren't good enough-!"

"Well maybe abandoning family's just in the bloodline I don't fucking well share with you-! I fucking woke up, to find out all 16 years of my life had been an entire fucking lie!” He hissed. “Everything! All of it!”

“Not all of it.” Lance growled. “She never lied about loving you. None of us have.”

“Wow, the grandest of consolation prizes. Thanks.” Okay, maybe it wasn’t worth the amount of venom he infused into those words, but god if Lance wasn’t treading on his last nerves.

Keith knew Lance. He always took offense in the loudest way possible. Gasps and swoons, cries for someone to avenge his honor. Not today. His brilliantly blue eyes darkened, teeth baring in aggression. He was borderline surprised when the hand collided with his face.

Lance could deliver a pretty sharp slap, in all fairness. Even with the back of his hand.

“Fine then. Fine.” He spat, “just fuck right off then. Don’t come through anymore. I don’t know you, you don’t know me. Officially disowned. Screw off.” And he left.


	26. Blessed be the Survivors (of 2016)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who makes short short (chapters)?  
> I make short short (chapters)!

They eventually gave up - the only sign of the boys was an arrow of Lance's; old and long lodged in a tree that bordered the clearing they'd used to field dress before returning to town.

Liam's burial preparations were just finishing. Felicia wept loudly over his body, and no villager had a kind eye for the young man's murderers. The galrans didn't notice.

They retreated into the tavern, away from the day's brightness.

"Dad, why are we agreeing to house monsters?" Matt asked seriously.

"Because if we don't, we'll all be like Liam." Sam sighed.

"How high are they? Can you or Iverson pull rank? Can you write someone else who could pull them?"

"They are only under the king himself, Matt. I'm sorry." Sam shook his head. "But I may write the King. It's becoming increasingly obvious those boys wandered further than hunting. His Majesty can send his dogs hunting, instead of stirring up trouble here."

"Please ask, at least. What if me or Mom is next?" Matt shuddered, and walked away.

* * *

Sam sent his last bird just as the day grew dark. As he was releasing the fowl, he spotted his wife gathered outside with some of the other men of the town. He sighed, and withdrew to check on her.

"He wasn't the brightest of boys, no. But he was still my Feli's man." Mortimer was stating.

"I know, but- I don't know if I can- not that. There's too much risk." Norma shook her head.

"What are we goading my wife into, Mortimer?" Sam interrupted. "She's small and innocent - scared enough as is. They're my superiors, if you must demand things do so from me."

The farmer's expression faltered. Then he sighed. "We want them gone. Whichever way is fastest."

"One way is treason." Sam reminded him.

"Everyone was there, Sam. They killed an innocent boy just because he happened to have sworn in a different language." Mortimer countered.

"... there is that." Sam frowned. He had his own suspicions about that, but it was hardly enough to deny the rest of the town. "I already put into the king, personally. It would seem your boys japed us all with the hunting excuse. They'd be better used to follow the trail instead of hassling us."

"But my sons-"

"Are off doing something. Probably some manhood ritual Lance conceived." Sam started. "But they're smart boys. If someone comes through asking specific questions, they'll turn over the goods without fuss, right?"

"... No." Mortimer sighed. "They won't. Keith is too wary and suspicious, Lance is weirdly possessive of the dr-dog." He almost gave the whole thing away, way to go, Mortimer. No one really blamed him - he could turn any vessel on a crown, be it ox or wind driven. There were others to be smart talkers.

"… He brought a dog?" Sam asked pointedly. "A dog, that the King would want back?"

"Yes. A dog." He was getting more than one side eye. Norma herself was trying to convince him to back off, if by silent stare alone. "Yes, well, anyways. This is my wife, talk to her about our sons' bad habits, I have to go... go dig a hole." He left very abruptly.

"Oh, right, dogs aside," Sam reached out, catching his sleeve. "Do you want help with the grave?"

Mortimer paused in his exuant. "Liam... was best at digging holes. I could use a spotter, at least."


	27. Can we Fix it?

Shiro woke again, still overseen by Coran. His brain hurt, but his previous awakening came back quickly. He subconsciously found himself flexing a hand that wasn't there.

"I didn't hurt you, did I, Coran? You or Allura?" His voice was quiet and raw.

"Not in the least dear boy. I apologize if any of that freaking out nonsense left a bruise. I'll sort you right out."

"Thanks... may I have some water?"

"Of course." Coran filled a glass from a jug, and passed it over. Shiro could taste several calming herbs infused, but made no comment.

"How are the children doing?"

"Good and well. Lance and Keith had a bit of a spat, but by Hunk’s word that’s a regular occurrence.”

“They bicker, yes.” Shiro nodded.

“Hunk himself is faring well. If you ask me, he’s gone sweet on Queen Balmara’s granddaughter.” Coran refilled his glass when he’d emptied it about halfway. “I’ve gotten through half of Nyma’s report, seems she has some minor concerns about little Pigeon.”

“Pidge is okay, though?”

“Needs more sleep,” Coran huffed. “But yes, otherwise they’re whole enough. Most of Nyma’s inklings are just about their heritage. Apparently the Holt family’s a little high up on the ladder for her liking.”

“The Holts are good people. Pidge... might hurt a fly’s feelings. Assault someone who does wrong by them. But they’re a good kid.”

“A little rapscallion?”

“A gremlin in the works, more. But _our_ gremlin.”

“Best keep those little hands busy, then.” Coran mused, tugging his mustache.

“Always a good idea.” Shiro agreed. “So fill me in on the Varden itself. Is everything going alright? I’ve been gone a while now.” He set his cup aside before Coran could fill it again. The older man mused over the question silently.

“Well, the dwarves say they’re happy to have us. But the mountain is not supplied to hold so many for so long. The farming fronts were a little dry these last years. There’s talk of moving. Nothing solid.

“Then there’s the Kull that followed the children in. We took their company well enough, but it’s starting to develop into more herds of the things. But they’re crossing the desert, then heading for some place called Ithrö Zhâda. Goodness knows where that is. I’ve never heard of the place.” Coran mused a moment longer. “Have you?”

“Not ringing any bells, no.” Shiro shook his head. “S’Urgal, though. Can tell you that much.”

“Oh, it is? Shall I have someone scour the library for traditional Urgal sites?” Coran perked up.

“No point. There’s none this far south.” He reached into a sleeve he wasn’t wearing, with an arm he didn’t have. He looked mildly upset when he failed to retrieve whatever he’d been reaching for. He glared at the spot his hand should have been, before shaking his head. “No. If I recall correctly, there’s none south of Uru'baen.”

“I see.” Coran reached into a sack beside him, and drew out a well loved map of Alagaësia. Shiro frowned as it was spread out across his knees. He tried to use his dominant hand to point first, then used the other. Coran watched patiently.

“Here,” He indicated a spot in the depths of the spine, just north of Uru'baen. Right where the mountains forked to surround Kuasta. “This is the furthest south. Everything below here is Galran territory.”

“That’s a merry jaunt away. Where’s the closest in this area?” Coran indicated the east side of Uru'baen.

“The Ramr’s dip, in here.” Shiro pointed. “But I think that one’s mostly abandoned for easier pickings to the north. The capitol’s too close.” He pondered.

“Curious. How do you-”

“Sometimes you’ve gotta make a story to tell one.”

“Allura’s going to have a fit if she hears you’re off looking for a fight.” Coran frowned. Shiro snorted.

“Gotta prove my bravado somehow.” He shrugged. Coran reached out and tweaked his ear chidingly. Shiro chuckled weakly, then sighed. “I’m going to need a new prince for my stories. No one’s going to believe a one armed man rescued a princess from dangers untold.”

“Could always spin it that he sells his arm for the greater good. Sells a hand to get a hand.” Coran offered gently. “But don’t think too long or deep on that, yes?”

“Of course, Coran. I live in fear of the day you tweak my ear for being so naughty as to think _before_ I act..”

“You mind your sass boy, I’ll tug at your nose! It’s already half off as is, don’t try me.” Coran chuckled.

“I thought you fixed things, not broke them!” Shiro ducked a swat for that.

“Sometimes to fix something one’s got to break ‘er down first!”

Allura smiled weakly at the sight of Coran and Shiro wrestling gently. He was going to be okay. A little rougher around the edges than before, but alright. She made a mental note to ask the dwarves what Shiro’s options were.


	28. Potentially.

“Are you two going to pretend you’re complete strangers all day, or just until I lock you two in a closet again?” Hunk asked. The two spatting children stared at him with dead eyes that just dared him to try.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Hunky-bear.” Lance grinned tensely. “It’s just you, me and Pidge at this table. And our lovely gracious guides.”

“I'm sorry Hunk, I could hardly hear you over the long loud gust of wind that just issued.” Keith had the same expression, the same tone.

Pidge sighed into their bowl of porridge. “This is going to be a long day.”

“These ones are doing this... regularly?” Shay asked of them softly. She seemed very concerned.

“They pull through this cycle every few months. It’ll end when Lance needs something from Keith.” Pidge assured. “Or when Hunk wades in and forces them to kiss and make up.”

“We have never made out.” Lance snapped.

“They said make UP, you revolting idiot.” Keith swatted his head. Lance hissed, and leapt at him, fists flying. Hunk sighed, and stood.

“I’m sorry,” He apologized to their gracious hosts. He stepped into the brawl, separating them by the collars of their shirts. They were yanked upright – Keith with a split lip, Lance sporting a freshly puffed eye – before forcing them both to bow. “And what do you two have to say for that display of childishness?” He asked.

He got weak, unwilling sorries after a moment, then frogmarched them back to their rooms.

Lance pouted the entire time, unimpressed with the lack of sympathy. Keith looked merely resigned to the situation. He was steeling his resolve, since he was about to be shipped to ‘Keith’s feelings don’t matter’ town, since others had feelings too and they were more important. He barely noticed when his shirt was released.

Hunk spoke gently to Lance. Lance was quick to flood him with the details of their spat. Keith didn’t bother listening, since he knew it was going to be blown out of proportion, exaggerated, and digging deep for every sympathy point available. He didn’t bother paying attention, until a massive hand touched his shoulder. Hunk was then, reluctantly, given his attention, but he was still ignoring Lance.

“What’s been eating you, Keith?” Hunk asked gently.

“Depends. What did Lance say was shoved up my rear this time? Sharp stick? Pickle?”

“Pinecone. But that’s not relevant. You’re usually chiller. What’s got you feeling bad enough that you’re lashing out?”

“I’m a jerk and a Harlot.” He deadpanned. Okay, maybe he’d paid a little attention to Lance’s spiel. Hunk sighed, and rubbed his face.

“You’re Keith Kogane, and you’ve been putting up with a lot of shit recently. Everything’s changed, and everything is continuing to change. I’ve only been privy to the last couple months, and I’m barely functioning. I’m not sure how you’re managing at all?”

“Do _you_ need to talk about it?”

“Yes, but not right now. We’re focusing on you right now.” Hunk stared him down.

“Because I’m doing _just fine_. I’m sorting through all this at my own pace. Lance is the one tugging strings and pushing buttons, trying to make me bottle all this up and ignore the crap running through my head.”

“You called Mrs McClain’s love a consolidation prize.” Hunk didn’t altogether believe him. Keith immediately went red, studying the floor with sudden intensity.

“I was angry.” He managed after a moment.

“You didn’t mean it?” Lance asked.

“I’m _still_ angry.” He closed up again. Hunk squeezed his shoulder gently. His freshly crossed arms loosened, though he still gripped his elbow. “No, I didn’t. I just- I want to know where I came from.”

“Why? Is Mama not good enough for you?”

“I’m still angry with you.”

“Keith, come on.” Hunk pressed. “We get it, you’re pissed. You’re allowed, and that’s valid. But maybe if we talk, we can avoid stepping on toes again?”

“Hm.” He grumbled, then relented. “It’s not- It’s _not_ that she isn’t good enough, Lance. It’s never been that. Ever.”

“Then why...?”

“I was left a name and an heirloom. I- I think that means they want me to find them, or at least who they were. If they, the Koganes, didn’t want me to follow, they wouldn't have left me hints, right?” That sounded right to him. “They couldn’t possibly match up to m- to Auntie. There’s no way. I’ve gotta throw that in their faces...

Right?” He looked to them for confirmation.

“That-” Lance paused. “That actually makes more sense than I wanna give you credit for.” He laughed weakly. Then he puffed up his bravado and huffed, “Mama’s still your mother too! You’ve been very rude! I expect an apology when we see her again!”

“I can do that.” He relented. “But I’m still pissed! I’m going to hand you your own ass!”

“As _if_ you could beat me!” Lance beamed and extended a hand. “I still want you to shake on it.”

“Sure.” They shook on it like men. Hunk nodded his approval, even as it turned into a wrestling match.

“Great. Excellent. Dealt with.” He grinned. It faltered a moment later. “Guys, can I get a hug? It’s been a long few months. My mom isn’t here to tell me that everything’s going to be okay. I’m very stressed.”

They immediately postponed their fight, converging on Hunk. He was wrapped in a snug embrace. Lance supplied the sweet reassurances, as Keith just focused on hugging the worry away. Hunk grappled them both closer, drawing comfort from their presences.


	29. Attack of the 2-Headed, 8-foot tall, 4-legged Ghost of Shiro

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning: Generalized Stupidity and maybe a dragon

Shiro flexed his remaining hand silently, thinking. He looked up when a voice rose to meet him.

"Yes! Tis I, the ghost of the real Shirogane! Let me pass, or suffer the consequences!" Pidge was yelling.

"No, no, he sounds more like: 'I am your father now! Listen to my fatherly words of wisdom'," Lance interrupted.

"Shut up, you, legs don't talk!" Pidge must have kicked him or something, because Lance cried out. Hunk was now shushing both of them.

"Guys the jig is up. They've realized this isn't an 8 foot tall, four legged, two headed Shiro." Keith stated dryly.

"... that's just because we have the ‘no humor’ head up beside the ‘watch your fucking language you fucking fuck’ head. If I was the head, like I suggested, we'd be fine." Hunk complained.

"Legs still don't talk!" Pidge kicked Lance again, causing the four of them to fall through the open door in a jumbled mess of limbs and his overcoat.

"I'm not mad, just disappointed." Lance groaned weakly.

"Shut up Leg." Keith started to wiggle free. He looked up, and a grin blossomed on his face at the sight of Shiro. "Shiro!"

"Oh, shoot, we didn't wake you up, did we?" Hunk's face appeared.

"No, I was already up." He assured warmly. He stood, and padded over, lifting his coat off of them. "The subterfuge wasn't necessary, though. Coran was just going to find you guys."

"I told you so." Lance complained. "But nooooo don't listen to Laaaaaance."

"Shut up Leg." Pidge papped his face, and stood. Shiro hugged them back warmly.

He was soon enveloped in a group hug from his charges. They went easy on his one side, but still surrounded him in a protective, relieved fold he knew he needed.

"So what all happened while I was out? I've gotten a short-hand version." He asked eventually. "Did anyone get hurt?"

Pidge was especially asked - he'd promised their welfare.

"A few nicks and cuts." Hunk rubbed his cheek. A week ago it had been a cut - a branch or rock, maybe that urgal arrow? Who knew - but now it was just a thin scabbed line on his cheek.

"That's it? I heard there were Shades involved." Shiro frowned. He inspected the thin cut, from an arrow's fletching, he thought. It might scar.

"I- uh. Um. Ugh." Hunk went green about the edges at the very thought. "I punched him while Keith crossed swords with him. I think... I killed him?"

"You punched a shade hard enough to destroy his heart." Shiro didn't believe that.

"N-no, but I broke- his - I-"

"He lit his hand on fire with some sort of braising word, and broke his neck." Keith supplied.

"Brisingr?" Shiro asked.

"That's the one." Hunk nodded weakly as Keith confirmed.

"Well." Shiro frowned at the thought. "You'll be glad to hear this, Hunk, but you didn't kill Lotor.” His charges waited for him to continue, confusion etched onto their faces. “When a shade is mortally wounded, their corporeal form vanishes, and reappears somewhere else. The only way to actually kill a shade is to destroy their heart. By not killing him, you merely banished him from this plane temporarily.”

“Aw man, he’s totally going to be out for blood now isn’t he?” Hunk groaned. He looked nauseous. Shiro didn’t blame him.

“Probably. But don’t worry, we’re all here to protect you, Hunk. You did what you had to, and we all lived. For that, we owe you big. Keeping your hide safe from a vengeful shade is the least we can do.” Shiro reassured. “Now, next on the agenda; the dragons?”

“Blue’s fine.” Lance supplied quickly. “They wouldn’t let her into the infirmary, though. She’s too big. She’s pouting, but is very glad you’re feeling better.”

“And the other?” Shiro asked, smiling fondly.

“This is Yellow.” Hunk indicated the already knee-high dragon. Yellow chirped up at him, and was lifted obediently. Hunk carried them forward easily. “They can’t talk yet. So the name may change. Yellow’s just the placeholder.”

“Goodness, you are a cute one.” Shiro extended his hand. Their demeanor shifted immediately, a growl splitting the air, and teeth gnashing in the spot his hand occupied. Shiro lurched back, barely saving his remaining fingers. “Er-”

“Yellow, what the heck?” Hunk pulled back as well, turning the dragon over in his arms. They rumbled up at him grumpily, twisting back over to hiss at Shiro. He went rather pale at the aggression.

“Hey hey, you’re being rude.” Lance slid between them, grabbing up their small golden face. “Yellow, baby, what’s the matter?” Yellow allowed the manhandling, whimpering up at him.

 _They don’t like the way Shiro smells._ Blue offered. _Sick and fear, and he’s making Hunk smell like sick and fear too._

“Oh,” Shiro flushed, grasping his stumped arm. He carefully extended his mind instead, brushing up against Yellow’s mind carefully. When he was acknowledged, he pressed forward the feeling of apology. “I’m sorry, little one. I didn’t mean to afear your rider.” Sponge baths could only do so much.

“You’d think they’d be used to the smell of sick and fear, with being Hunk’s dragon and all.” Pidge muttered, causing Hunk to take a turn flushing red. There was no malice in the way the rest chuckled over that.

“Such a tough little dragon,” Keith squatted to stroke Yellow. “Protecting their rider from big bads.”

“I hate to agree with you, but yes. Such bravery. So strong.” Lance scratched their chin. “But Shiro’s very gentle. He’ll never hurt Hunk. You don’t have to worry.”

“Yeah, he’s here to protect us. Like a dad, or a big brother.” Pidge offered. Shiro blushed darkly at the praise. He knelt carefully, and though Yellow still eyed him nervously, he wasn’t being hissed at.

“I just smell off because I’ve lost my paw. Don’t fret too much, the smell will fade as I heal more.”

Yellow glared at him for a long minute after, deciding. Then they huffed, and pressed into the affection granted by the others, knocking Keith over. But they pressed a strong feeling of understanding, and postponed judgement.


	30. Aconitine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content: Attempted Moidah

“Still no contact?” Norma asked, when they’d gathered in the Garrett forge.

“Nothing.” Iverson huffed.

“No sign on our side, either.” Solomon shook his head.

“Would it be dangerous to call in, instead?” Norma asked.

“We have no more birds.” Iverson grumbled. “I’d need to go get some from the south, and bring them back.”

“We left before He fell.” Sirius started slowly. “And, er... we. We never had a chance to meet his successor. Scrying only works if you’ve met the person before.”

Norma nodded slowly. The rules of magic and fact weren’t exactly arguable. “What of Radh?”

“We can try.” Sirius pulled a small, silver-gilded mirror from a nearby pack. He frowned when nothing but whiteness coated the reflection. Radh was speaking to someone, bouncing and flailing as he did, but nothing else showed. “And with trying, failing is an expected outcome. He’s not at home right now.”

“No sign of his whereabouts?”

“None.” Solomon considered. He released the spell, and brought up Hunk instead. His son was speaking with Lance in a featureless room. Something white obscured his lap.

“He wouldn't be able to answer.” Sirius huffed. “He hasn’t any active magic. None of the things I had him do even came close.”

“There’s no mirrors in this room anyways.” Solomon shrugged. “Lluvia, your one boy is alright.” He turned the surface to her.

“The other?” She asked.

“Just a second.” Keith showed up a moment later, talking to someone shrouded in white in a dark hallway lacking distinguishing features.

“I’m glad.” She smiled softly.

“And little Katie.” He turned the surface to Norma as well, showing the child scratching down something in charcoal. She was lounging on her stomach in what appeared to be the Tronjheim library. It had grown since they were last there.

“They’re okay.” Norma could accept that news. Her child was undoubtedly getting into trouble, but that was normal. “They made Tronjheim.”

It was a small relief.

“We should decide soon what the course of action will be,” Iverson was silently glad his head wasn’t forfeit. “You have the most opportunities. We need you to move.”

“I’ll move when I have room for movement. We’ve been asleep many years. I will not risk all we’ve worked for in a sporadic moment.” She insisted. “I want for more information. A botched attempt goes over so well.” She stared at them pointedly. Liam had proven that for all of them.

“I have my collections. But the information you want is not of it.” Iverson stared her down in return. “I can provide sharps, though, distills. Anything physical.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

* * *

“I don’t like your little shrew-wife.” Prorok growled as Sam set their plates out. His blood immediately ran cold.

“Has she done anything untoward?” He asked, deeply concerned.

“She would be dead if she had.” Prorok’s teeth flashed dangerously. “But she watches too close. She’s too aware, and too wary.”

“She’s a woman of Lower Alagaësia. She’s known war, and the separation of Surda from us. She’s mothered two children to near adulthood, and tends the bar while I’m away. If she were not as shrewd as she is, anything could happen.” He soothed.

“I don’t trust her.”

“With all due respect; I Do.” Sam knew he shouldn’t push, but this was his wife. “Please, trust me when I say she is just a gentlewoman. Knowing how to use one’s eyes is not a crime.”

“Where _is_ your daughter, anyways?” Sendak spoke for the first time since he’d killed Liam.

“She took to the road when I mentioned Marriage. She’s in the south, staying with a friend.” True enough. It wasn’t like there was a town north that Takashi could bring her.

“Was she close with our missing boys?”

“No moreso than any other child of the age in the town.” Sam didn’t like this string of questioning anymore than the threats against his wife.

“We saw a child who looked like your older brat leaving the day we entered. Was that her?” Matt looked mildly offended through the kitchen door.

“No. She left a few days prior.” The galrans studied him for a very long, very tense minute, before growling, and attacking their meal.

* * *

Norma used her nail to peel back the seal on the tiny vial. The transparent liquid went directly into the two tankards of water. She had sworn not to take a life, sure. But now they had taken a life, and that was unacceptable.

Her husband entered the kitchen behind her, just after she dropped the emptied vial into her deepest apron pocket.

“How’s Felicia doing?” He asked tiredly, hugging her from behind. “The town?”

“No one is very pleased. Little Feli’s distraught – her little ones will grow up without their papa. It’s heartbreaking really.” She cupped his cheek gently, kissing the other.

“I’m sorry, Love. I didn’t mean to bring this upon us.”

“It’s not your fault. One would think an object not worth a man’s life, but clearly we are dealing with some unreasonable folks.” She soothed. “Once they move on, all will return to normal.”

“I hope you’re right.”

“I always am.” She tweaked his nose, then lifted the tray with the tankards.

“Of course you are, dear.” He chuckled softly. “Oh, right, Don’t give them the disappointed mom stare anymore. It’s making them antsy.”

“Good. I think I shall go tell them I truly expected better of them. A sound scolding should sort them out.” She teased, if only to see the distress on Sam’s face for the moment he thought she was serious. And then watch him flush like a schoolboy when she winked at him.

The galrans were still eating as she approached. They looked less than pleased to see her, for all her vibrant smile.

“Don’t you boys worry your heads.” She clucked. “Sammy mentioned you don’t like getting the stink-eye. Old habit; keeps the regulars in line and the children on their toes.”

“He did mention.” Prorok accepted the tankard easily. He paused halfway through his first drought while she turned over the other tankard. “Your water’s gone off.”

“You sure, dear?” She accepted the tankard back, and took a swig. After a moment of contemplating the water-flavored water, She nodded. “Oh, that. Locals go a little tongue-blind to it. The well just thawed a touch in that last warm spot. We get it on and off every spring.”

“Oh. Stupid well.” He took his drink back, and let her go about her business. She made a mental note that galrans could apparently taste aconitine.

She then took to the kitchen again, settling at the family table with one of the sweet-buns she’d been saving. As though this was her plan all along. The starch from the potato flour she used would neutralize any toxins she took in. Any left, her body could process. The galrans in the main room wouldn't be so lucky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't recall all the rules for Scrying in the Inheritance verse. In my defense, I Marathoned all 4 books in like a week before starting this. (feel free to point at it if I dun goofed)

**Author's Note:**

> I have 10 000 words already someone stop me


End file.
